


Coming Home

by sbstevenson2



Category: Outlander (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eventual Smut, F/M, Family, Gen, Reunited and It Feels So Good
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:08:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 25,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23955892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sbstevenson2/pseuds/sbstevenson2
Summary: Claire wakes up in a hospital back in the future and is greeted by a face she never thought she'd see again after leaving her family behind in 1746.
Relationships: Claire Beauchamp/Fergus Fraser, Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser
Comments: 141
Kudos: 292





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! So this is my first attempt at Outlander fic… I hope I don't completely screw this up, y'all lol
> 
> I wrote it because my love for Fergus KNOWS NO BOUNDS… and also because I saw a theory online that Fergus could possibly be St. Germain's son, which could also mean he's possibly a time traveler and thus, my brain spiraled into imagining Fergus going through the stones with Claire.
> 
> Some of the conversations in this are taken from canon scenes but switched around to fit this narrative, so just… go with it haha
> 
> I hope y'all enjoy… and please review! :)
> 
> {**************************}

**Coming Home: Part One**

I am brought back to consciousness by the whirring sound of something I did not recognize—the melody of Scottish bagpipes, the fierce warrior cries of highland soldiers as they rushed into battle, the sound of my name murmured lovingly from Jamie's lips, were all drowned out by the dissonance of a beeping sound, muffled voices and footsteps.

A hospital, I realized, with jarring reality. And not a field one I'd set up in 1746 to tend to fallen soldiers.

That incessant beeping sound is my own heartbeat, a vicious reminder that I am no longer where I want to be. No longer in a century I did not belong in, but the one where I truly found myself. And my other half.

"Ma'am?"

My head snaps to the right, eyes cutting over my shoulder to the doctor.

I can't recall all the words he was speaking: _found at Craigh na Dun, missing, three years…_ what does catch my attention, however, is his, "Your son is just outside, waiting for you."

"I don't–" but before I can finish the thought, a memory so strong I can almost taste it comes crashing down upon me.

_His strong arm wraps around my middle, squeezing affectionately at my hip, the other weaving its fingers with my own as he stretches our arms out toward the stone._

_I can feel his nose pressed into my curls, and my eyes close, trying to memorize the feel of my husband so intertwined with me that I can scarcely tell where he ends and I begin. I breathe in sharply as the sounds of cannons echo in the background, miles from here but close enough to remind me what I'm leaving behind._

_We've stepped closer to the buzzing stone now, Jamie's feet having pushed me toward a future I want to refuse. I cry, the tears slipping down my cheeks as I scornfully accept the fate I am resigned to, my ragged breaths silently begging Jamie not to make me go. I can no longer imagine a life without him in it, and I can feel a small part of myself growing angry with him that he's not giving me a choice in the matter._

_But, I remind myself, we have a child on the way. A miracle after what happened with Faith, but I'm still angry — at Jamie, at the Bonny Prince, at this whole bloody war, at fucking history — for taking this all away from me. A life where I finally felt content, like I belonged here for a purpose greater than myself… it was wonderful. And now it was all coming to an alarmingly quick end._

" _Goodbye, Claire," he chokes out as our hands hover above the stone._

_My vision blurs as his calloused hand guides mine to the large stone, and with my last second in the presence of my soulmate, I beg and plead to whatever higher being may be in charge that Jamie can come with me._

_Please, let him come with me._

_As I feel my body slipping through the stones, back to the future I've spent so much time trying to change, confusion clouds me as I hear a pained cry of, "Milady!" and, "No!"_

_Darkness shrouds my vision for the rest of my journey; I can't remember the feeling or the sights I may have been shown along the way. My brain feels as if it's shut off, shut down completely as I fall away from my one true love._

_But that voice… Milady… No… it haunts me, echoes in the deepest recesses of my mind as I come back to reality. I can hear his little voice reverberating in the innermost depths of my soul..._

I shake my head, eyes glazing over as I peer at the doorway just behind my doctor.

Fergus.

I breathe his name like a reverent prayer, utterly baffled as to how he had gotten here to… well, whatever year this was.

He comes bounding over to me, head of curly brown hair flopping as he does. It is the only thing so far today to bring a smile to my face. And I fear, being back here in this time now, that it may be the only thing for some time to make me smile.

"What are you doing here, you foolish boy?" I whisper into his head, peppering kisses to it and his cheeks.

My hands cup around his face, drawing him closer as I look to him in utter and complete shock.

He seems just as confused, but delighted to see me, I think, that little grin of his plastered on his face.

"Milady," he breathes in relief, curling into my chest as he draws up onto the small hospital bed with me. "I couldn't be wi-without you," he admits, adding softly, "You said I belonged with you, yes? That I would always have a home with you?"

My shoulders sink, and I hug him tightly, holding him in my arms even though we barely fit together on this bed, vowing silently to never let him go. I promise him over and over again that he would have a home with me, "Of course, Fergus," I say, but my mind thinks of Jamie. Alone now, without me or our son. What must he have thought seeing Fergus go through the stones? _How_ did Fergus go through?

The rest of the world seems to melt away, just me and my darling boy together for the rest of time, until my doctor clears his throat again. He explains that my husband has just arrived, and my body immediately tenses.

A slew of emotions run rampant through my body. If Fergus is here, does that mean… could that higher being I begged have actually heard my prayer? Could Jamie be here, too?

He must be so bewildered. And lost. Probably shouting indignantly at anyone who will listen to bring him to her, I think with a hint of a smile.

I sit up as best I can with Fergus still curled in my lap. My arms tighten around him as I look toward the door, giddily expecting that large red headed Scot to come sweeping in, taking me and Fergus home to figure this whole mess out.

But instead…

My shoulders sag in synchronicity with my falling smile, and disappointment fills me as I see Frank walk through the door.

He looks excited, relieved, I suppose, then completely confused when his eyes dart down to the boy in my lap.

Fergus looks up, and I feel his small body begin to tremble with fear. I pull him closer, shushing into his hair as I whisper, "It's alright," and, "It's not _him_. I'll explain it all later," as I press a kiss to his head.

Fergus relaxes against me, his trust in me seeming to never waiver as he whispers, "Y-yes, Milady," and I smile to myself as Frank makes his way over to the bed.

The doctor explains, as best he can, about how I was found wandering the road with this young boy (a fact that I undoubtedly do not remember at all), and how a gentleman found us and brought us here after I passed out in his arms. "The boy claimed to be her son," the doctor says, looking between all three of us. "We don't have any record that you reported a son missing, but…"

Frank looks at me then, and he must read it in my face. _Do not question him. Do not take this boy away from me, you fucking bastard._ My protective maternal instincts kicking in as I draw Fergus closer to me.

"Yes," Frank says matter-of-factly, his head tilting toward the doctor but his beady eyes never leaving mine. "The boy is her son."

"Very well then," the doctor sighs, clicking his pen and gripping his clipboard. He leaves, and the room falls into silence as Frank stares down at Fergus and me in the bed.

"Um, Frank," I say, clearing my throat. "This… this is Fergus. My son."

His eyes narrow, most likely confused, and his head tilts to the side. "Claire, wha–"

"It's far too much to explain right now," I say, cutting him off.

He draws his lips in, nodding sadly. He smiles, and the fear that was trying to bubble up inside of me over him looking far too much like Black Jack dissipates, he has slight differences that I think I can learn to live with again, and for a fleeting moment I wonder if everything might be okay.

I kiss Fergus' head when he yawns and tells me, "I am very tired, Milady."

Looking around, I spy the chair in the corner where they'd placed my corset and dress. Brown and leather, looks big enough for him to curl into. I run my fingers through his hair, motioning toward the chair. "Try to sleep there, Fergus," I say softly, burying my nose in the top of his head for a brief second. "I'll wake you when it's time to go."

He nods tiredly, his eyes drooping as he slides from the tiny bed to the chair, moving my clothes gently to the window seal and curling his knees into his chest. He's asleep within moments, and when I look up, Frank is looking at me, eyes shining with a thousand questions.

He glances over at Fergus, then the attire he'd just moved, and I can see Frank's mind swirling.

As he slinks over to the clothing, he tells me that Reverend Wakefield has prepared a room for us, and I ask him if Mrs. Graham is still in his employ.

She was the one who originally told me about all of this, the fairies and the stones, surely she'd be the one I need to speak with.

Frank isn't sure, didn't think to ask, and he mumbles so as he picks up my eighteenth century clothing, examining it carefully like the historian that he is.

He stares at it for the longest time, and I simply sit there, arms wrapped around myself as I keep an eye on Fergus. Frank doesn't say anything, though I can see the questions and theories swarming his mind.

With that, he places the corset back down and perches on a metal stool in the corner, telling me that they just need to wait for the doctor to give her the all clear and then they can go.

After another few hours, the doctors confirm that there is nothing medically wrong with me, nothing to keep us here overnight, so Frank gathers what little belongings we have and takes us to Reverend Wakefield's home.

It's there that I spend the first half of the night questioning Fergus on how he got here—to which he says he'd followed Jamie and me to the stones instead of going to Lallybroch, watched me go through the stones and ran after me—which brings up a whole other round of questions my son simply cannot answer, like how he is a time traveler like I apparently am, how he knew he could do it (he didn't), and more complexities to this whole traveling through time conundrum that Fergus has no clue about.

Before putting him to bed, I tell him all about this world and the things he'll see that may scare him. I'd already walked him through how a car was just like a carriage only without horses, and how we cooked our food in the oven instead of cooking at the hearth, but there was still so, _so_ much he would have to learn.

I kiss the top of his head, promising that I will be just down the hall if he needs me, before closing the door softly behind me and heading to the kitchen.

There, I finally sit down to talk with Frank, apologizing for just now getting to him but explaining that Fergus needed her. He will always come first.

He's quiet. Accepting, I think. But then a flood of questions begin, a barrage of accusations that I refuse to deal with tonight, or ever. I will not sit here and allow this man, my husband or not, to degrade what I shared with Jamie to simply an _affair_. If anything, being here with Frank feels more of an affair than anything I ever had with Jamie.

Frank is getting emotional now, crying as he tells me that he loves me and, though he doesn't understand what I've been through, or my love for Jamie, he can accept it. He says so, but I somehow don't fully believe him. There's something in the way he says Jamie's name, a jealous heat simmering just below the surface.

He's on his knees now in front of me, hands clasped over mine, begging, "We can still have a life together. Please, Claire–"

"I'm pregnant," is all I can think to say to finally shut him up. My insides feel as if they're attempting to claw their way out of my body; I can't sit here any longer and listen to this when all I want to do is scream from the rooftops about how much I miss Jamie.

His head shakes, almost does a double take in disbelief before a smile so bright I think it might possibly generate all the electricity in this house splits on his face, his brown eyes filling with tears. "Claire, that's wonderful," he beams, squeezing my hands. "How is that, how is that possible?"

I must look at him as if he's insane to honestly, somehow, think the child is his. And it must dawn on him then, because just as quickly as the joy filled his face, the crushing reality sets in. His smile fades and the tears dry as he comes to realize he's not the father.

"No," is all he can say, over and over again as I tell him I'm carrying another man's child. Brought one back with me, too.

His anger gets the better of him, and he stands, growling in my face as his fists ball, ready to hit me if he were lesser of a man. I stare up at him, silently daring him to do something, though my heart is beating with fear.

He's so much like his ancestor that it terrifies me, and he doesn't even know it.

Frank storms off, slamming the door behind him, and my first thought is of Fergus.

I stand, pulling my robe around me as I make my way to his room. He must be so scared, and I don't want him to be alone tonight.

With that, I gingerly make my way to my boy's room, curling into an armchair that sits beside the large window. I watch him sleep, the light of the moon illuminating his features, and as I drift off with one hand resting on my barely-showing bump, I can feel a small smile growing on my lips knowing that, despite what's happened to Jamie, our son and our unborn child are safe here with me.

{************************}

The next morning, Fergus and I sit outside at a small garden table, tea and biscuits in front of us that Mrs. Graham has prepared.

We tell her all about the stones, and I tell her how Murtagh saved me from Black Jack, how I couldn't comprehend what was happening, thought I was on a film set (movies, I remind myself, something else I need to tell Fergus about), and everything that led to me being taken to Castle Leoch.

I recount as much as I can, the hours passing as the older woman and Fergus listen intently, my son never having heard this part of my story.

The sun sits high in the sky, and we all know it's almost time for Mrs. Graham to prepare lunch for us all, but the woman takes my hand, urging me to continue.

I smile, tears forming as I tell her about Jamie, and his love for me. How we tried to stop the Battle of Culloden, and even went to Paris.

Reaching over, I ruffle Fergus' hair and say, "And that's where we met this one," as I bop the end of his nose.

He smirks, rolling his eyes playfully as he joins in the conversation, telling Mrs. Graham about how he met Jamie and made himself right at home in our estate.

Laughing softly, I nod as Fergus says, "When it was time for Milord and Milady to leave Paris, I-I-I could not imagine not going with them."

He looks to me then, this little boy who holds my entire heart in the palm of his hand, and gives me a shy smile.

My eyes crinkle on the end as I grin at him, but the smile fades as Mrs. Graham takes my hand. I feel as if she's going to say something bad, something that will take this afternoon of peace away.

Instead, she gives both Fergus and I a small smile, saying that each time we speak of Jamie, we mention his sense of humor.

"Milord is a, uh, a very funny man!" Fergus pipes up in excitement, gesturing with his hands and laughing to himself as, I assume, he thinks of something humorous Jamie had told him one time.

"Was," I whisper defeatedly, my chin quivering as I realize we can no longer speak of him as if he's just off in another town gathering men for his army.

He's dead. And has been for the two whole centuries… a fact that I cannot bring myself to accept, even though logically I know it to be true.

"I just want to know," I cry softly, looking to Mrs. Graham with pleading eyes as my hand lands on Fergus' back, rubbing soothing circles between his shoulders. "I just need to know if he really did… die on that battlefield."

Mrs. Graham repeats Jamie's words back to me, reminding me that my husband vowed to stand and die with his men on the battlefield, damn him, and she asks me if I have any reason to doubt him.

Looking to Fergus, tears now welling in his eyes as well, we both shake our heads in defeat, knowing James Fraser was nothing if not a man of his word.

With that, the older woman grips my hands, pulling my gaze from my son to her. She reminds me that Fergus and I have lived an extraordinary adventure, a life most people can only dream of.

"Treasure it," she tells us sincerely, smiling over to Fergus sweetly. She goes on, advising us to keep it in a safe place in our hearts, and I try to smile, knowing she's right.

She cautions me, with pleading yet understanding eyes, that I can't spend the rest of my days chasing after a ghost. I have a man here, in this time, that still loves me.

I nod hesitantly, despite not feeling as if I can accept her advice, and my eyes trail over the top of Fergus' head to the window where I see Frank watching us.

A tear slowly trickles down my cheek, and Fergus reaches up to wipe it away before I can get to it.

God, I love this boy so much. I'm so glad he came through the stones with me, and though it's scary and a whole new world he has to learn, I'm happy to have someone with me who has gone through the same thing.

This will forever bond us, mother and son.

With a bop of my shoulder to his, I pour him some more tea, and as Mrs. Graham goes inside to prepare lunch, Fergus and I spend the rest of the afternoon talking and laughing, reminiscing over the (admittedly, very few) good times we had while in the past.

The history books are scattered around us, and I close them all one by one, closing up the possible answers to Jamie's life or death for now but knowing, deep down, that he will live on forever in mine and Fergus' hearts.

{************************}

_Hope y'all enjoyed! There are two more parts to this, showing us moments of Fergus and Claire in the future over the twenty year separation, and, of course, going back to Jamie! Let me know if you'd be interested in reading it… I've already got it written (just needs some editing lol), so, hey, I might just post it anyway haha…. Please leave a review! :)_


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thanks so SO much for all the amazing feedback on the first chapter. You guys are amazing!
> 
> The rest of the story has been a BEAST to write, let me tell you lol. I had one whole, completely done version then decided to *completely* rewrite ALL OF IT. It's been a mess, guys haha but hopefully this version is to your likings!
> 
> The timeline is completely different from what happened in the show, so I hope I made it clear enough to follow along and make sense… Please leave a review and let me know what you think :)
> 
> {***************************}

**Coming Home: Part Two**

As I sit in Reverend Wakefield's home, memories of a life lived so long ago surround me. The man's passing had been a surprise, but I'm glad the children and I had been in London at the time. We were there vacationing; Brianna and Fergus both had always been so interested to see where I grew up, and since it was summer break, I took some time off from the hospital to take them.

While there, I was informed that the good reverend had passed away, a heart complication he'd been battling, and when the opportunity to visit Scotland arose, Fergus had looked at me and I knew we had to go. It was an easy trip from where we were staying in London, though the feelings that rushed in and encompassed me the moment we stepped onto Scottish terrain almost made me feel faint.

Fergus, sensing my emotions, caught my arm before I could stumble.

"Thank you, sweetheart," I whispered to my now twenty-two year old son, a grown man by anyone's standards but I still thought of him as my little boy. I patted his arm, giving him a soft smile as we made our way to the Reverend's house.

Brianna, of course, did not know the significance of this place. We'd never told her of the stones, nor our time in the past, fearing she wouldn't understand and not wanting to scare her.

We'd done our research over the last few years, Fergus and I, trying to discover the anomaly that is the stones. We steered clear of researching Culloden, or the Highlanders, afraid that it would lead me down a dark path, one of endless searching and seeking that Mrs. Graham had warned us about so long ago.

Fergus was my rock, my shoulder in which I could cry on, but I knew I had to be strong for him as well. He was just a boy, a teenager when we did our research, and I feared I'd drag him into darkness as well.

Our studies proved to be, for the most part, inconclusive. There wasn't much information on tales of lore from centuries ago, but we did our best.

" _Here's this, Mom," he says, and my heart aches and swells with pride simultaneously. We'd quickly realized that in this day in age, calling your mother Milady was a bit odd, so he'd switched to Mama and now, just, Mom as I imagine all teenagers do._

_I look up from the book I was perusing, watching as he brings the tome over to me. He sits at my feet, and I smile softly, my head tilting when he shows me an excerpt from the text. It was one he'd found at the library on ancient Scottish myths and legends, and his instincts had been right that it would provide some more insight to the folktale of people traveling through the stones at Craigh Na Dun._

_I read a caption under a picture, just a snippet mentioning a mother and daughter being legended to have traveled together. "So it's possibly genetic," I mumble to myself, flipping the page to see if there's more. There's not, not really, not enough to answer the hundreds of questions that tidbit for information triggered._

_Mother and daughter. So if it's passed on through genetics, does that mean one of my parents could also have traveled through stones? Did I pass this on to Brianna? How many centuries back does this gene go? Fergus went through, so one of his biological parents must have been a time traveler as well, yes? The questions are endless, and I shake my head, sighing as I look down at Fergus._

" _I don't think we will ever know the whole truth of it."_

_His lopsided grin seems to agree, so he takes the book, thumbing through a few more pages, reading to me about legends of women going through and returning, people believing the women to be fairies (a fact I knew, thanks to the press when we first returned to 1948), and so on._

_With another sigh, I stand, ruffling Fergus' hair. The fourteen year old playfully shrugs away from me, smoothing his hair back down how he likes it with a chuckle._

_I laugh, tapping his shoulder. "Come on," I say, placing the books back on a shelf that I knew Brianna could not reach (not that she can read just yet, she is only four, but still), "I need to start dinner."_

_Nodding, Fergus closes his book as well, handing it to me before saying he's going to go play with Bree while I cook. "Is Frank going to be home for dinner?" he asks, looking at me knowingly._

_I bite my bottom lip, unsure of the answer to that. Frank has been more distant lately, working late and the like, and I was never truly sure what nights he'd join his family for our evening meal. "I'm not sure," I admit, giving him a small smile. "I'll make enough just in case."_

_He nods again, this time with pursed lips, a look I can read all too well. Frank and Fergus have never been close, a fact I can't help when Fergus was afraid of him for the first year we were back, and Frank never really tried to bond with him. He provides for him, as part of our family, but he's never taken the time to get to know Fergus, and it breaks my heart for my son. I often wonder if he'd had been better staying behind, staying at Lallybroch, because I know Ian would have been a wonderful father figure to him once Jamie passed away at Culloden._

_I wrap my arm around his shoulders with a murmured, "Come on, let's go get Bree up from her nap," as we make our way out of the study and down the hall._

Inhaling sharply, I try to steady my rapidly beating heart. Being here, being back where it all happened, makes me want to shout it from the rooftops, to tell Brianna about Jamie, her biological father, and all the experiences we shared before coming back to the future.

It would crush her, though, for she loved Frank so much. Was devastated when he passed away four years ago. I was too, of course, he'd been a wonderful father to Bree, but the years spent with him had been trying ones for sure.

_Jamie would have loved this, seeing his children gathered around the Christmas tree, all smiles and giggles as they open their gifts. Not that Christmas was anything like this back in his century, wouldn't be for quite some time, but if he were here, if Jamie was sitting beside me as Fergus and Brianna squealed with delight over their newest treasures, he would surely have claimed Christmas was his favorite time of year._

" _Mama!" Bree exclaims, toddling over to me and patting me on the leg. "Look at my Toni Doll!"_

" _I see it, my darling girl," I coo with a giant smile on my face, knowing that doll will end up having her hair washed far more than need be, but I'd do anything to make Bree smile like this everyday._

_I watch as she meanders back to the tree with a satisfied nod, just knowing I've acknowledged the gift she's received from the all powerful Santa Claus, she's content to play on her own. Grinning, I look to Fergus who catches my eye. We share a knowing smile, being the ones who put their gifts out last night, and I nod toward his new Mr. Potato Head. It was the only toy to be advertised on television, ever, and though I thought he was a bit too old to play with it (and the fact that it would require a potato or some type of fruit every time he wanted to play with the toy), he'd begged Frank and I for it. And who was I to refuse him?_

_He looks down, despite already knowing that he was getting it, and beams as he fiddles with all the parts, then jumping up and running to the kitchen, returning with a potato I'd just brought home from the store yesterday._

_I love this. Love seeing him so happy… so safe. Coming back four years ago was the hardest thing I've ever had to do, but knowing that my children are safe, no threats of war destroying our home, comforts that this day in age provides that 1746 could not, makes it all feel worth it, sometimes._

" _Where's Daddy?"_

_I look up from my thoughts, glancing to Fergus, then Bree, trying to give her a smile._

_Frank._

_Fucking Frank._

_He hasn't been home in two days, and I have a very strong feeling of where he might be. He's been spending far too much time at the office over the last two years, claiming to have slept on the couch in his office some nights lately. Though, in all honesty, I know what he's really doing. We'd come to an agreement a year ago, when it was clear I could never let go of Jamie, could never be the wife Frank needed me to be, despite my efforts, that he was free to find, well, comfort, elsewhere, as long as he was discreet._

_I'm not sure how discreet one can be, spending Christmas morning with someone who isn't your wife, but, I suppose, if they're holed up in her home, not going anywhere, then there's no one to witness their indiscretion._

_Fine by me. Though I hate it for Brianna, she does love Frank so, but I can't help the feeling of freedom I feel when I come home from work and realize he's not there. It gives me and my children a chance to relax; Fergus is still tense around him, despite knowing he's not actually Black Jack Randall, which puts all of us on edge._

" _Daddy's at work, sweetheart," I tell her with a brave smile upon my face, knowing there's no other possible way to explain it to a four year old._

_I look to Fergus, hoping he doesn't notice my unease. Although I am fine with Frank no longer trying to love me, I still feel uncertain knowing he's off with another woman. What would people think if they found out? I've asked him to file for divorce, but he claims he doesn't want to lose Brianna (not Fergus, there's never a mention of worry over losing a potential son, which saddens me. And I think, Fergus' too somehow, despite his indifference toward Frank; deep down I have always thought it was a front. He just wanted a man in his life to look to for guidance, and looked for it in Frank but could never find it)._

_Bree nods sadly, her little shoulders sagging, and anger flares inside of me. He claims to love her oh so much, wants to be her father, and yet, he can't bring himself to endure one goddamn morning with his family._

_Pathetic._

_Fergus must know, despite my efforts to hide it. He's fourteen now, and far too observant (always has been) to not notice such things like an absent father figure. My little boy, well, not so little anymore, also knows my face far too well. He's always claimed to be able to read me, and he's right. It must be a skill he'd picked up from Jamie._

_He gives me a sad, knowing smile, and I shake my head, not wanting him to worry about me this morning. It's Christmas. The day should be filled with lightheartedness, singing, playing, and far too much food in our bellies, so that's exactly what I'm going to do for them._

" _Well," I announce cheerfully, clapping my hands together as I stand from the chair. "Why don't I get breakfast started while you two play with your new gifts?"_

_Brianna cheers, little hands waving in excitement before she runs to her new playhouse, peeking out the front door adorably, begging Fergus to play with her._

" _You can bring your action cars!" she bargains with him, her red pig tails swishing side to side as she bounces excitedly in her new house and points to his pile of new toy cars._

_With a playful roll of his eyes, he slides from the couch to the floor, picking up a handful of his cars and squeezing into the playhouse right along with her._

_Smirking, I make my way into the kitchen, the sounds of my children, happy and loved, and surrounded by more presents than they know what to do with, flitter in from the living room, and it's the best feeling I could have hoped for on Christmas morning._

"Mama?"

I pull myself from thoughts of the past, smiling sweetly as Brianna makes her way into my bedroom. She climbs into the bed, patting the spot next to her for me to join her. Her hair is wrapped in a towel, her fuzzy, yellow pajamas on, and I grin watching my little girl curl into the warmth of the bed.

Smiling, I stand from my seat at the vanity, drawing my robe tighter around my body as I slip in beside her.

We talk of the reverend, she'd been curious as to how her brother and I knew him, so I give her the best answer I can. I tell her that her father and I knew him a long time ago. "I stayed here when I adopted Fergus, too," I say, internally groaning at the lies I've had to tell Brianna over the years.

She was always inquisitive, even at a young age, why Fergus called her daddy _Frank_ when she and Fergus were brother and sister. We always told her, per Frank's request, that I had found Fergus while working over here in Europe. It didn't quite make sense, I knew that, but at the time she'd been little, just starting school when she'd asked about the difference between what she called Frank and what Fergus did, so it was enough to placate her. That's the small blessing in children; they'll believe even a half truth if you sell it to them. I've always feared, however, that the older she gets, the more questions she'll have, and I'm positive being back here in Scotland will arouse some.

Brianna smiles at that, snuggling into my chest. "You and Fergie seemed so sad when you found out," she says softly, and I kiss the top of her head.

I nod, knowing Fergus had been affected by the news as well. We'd spent several weeks here when we first came back through the stones, this was where Fergus first learned about life in the future.

It was strange, being back, but I'm hopeful that being in Scotland will give me the courage to finally tell Brianna the truth. A truth which I have been debating on ever sharing with her for years now.

There just never seemed to be a good time when she was little. At first, she was simply far too young to logically understand, not that now at twelve years old is much better, but, I think, there might be a way to make her understand. Then there was Frank and all the turmoil my marriage went through with him. Each time we discussed divorce, his concern was losing Bree, but of course it all came to a head when I went back to medical school. He'd had enough and asked me for a divorce, which I was willing to give. He'd died that night, and since then things have been too out of control in Bree's life to tell her.

I also didn't want to scare her, how does one explain that she might have the ability to travel through time? It's not an easy concept to accept, especially for someone so young.

Fergus knocks on the door then, asking, "May I come in?"

I smile, patting a spot on the bed. Bree laughs as he flops down, flinging himself across the width of the mattress dramatically.

Brianna smacks his shoulder, and they mess with one another for a few minutes before I quietly tell them to settle down. "We don't want to wake Roger."

They nod, but their soft giggles still fill the room as Bree nudges Fergus' hip with her toes. He takes her foot without warning, yanking on it and pulling her further down the bed.

With a laugh, she dramatically goes, her red hair splaying across the pillow beside me.

Seeing those auburn locks, my mind flashes back to something I haven't thought of in a very long time, and I can't help but shake my head at the memory…

_Moving into our new house eight months ago was the best decision I could have made for my family. Frank had been laid to rest four months earlier, I had started medical school just before the move (a decision made once I realized I needed a larger purpose in life than just myself like I once had in the past with Jamie), and Fergus was now in college studying business._

_I'd begged and pleaded with him to live at home while going to school, and even bought him a car so he could drive himself to campus every day. It was the bribery he needed, because he'd stayed, though I promised to give him more privacy when he informed me that he was growing up and I needed to give him some freedom._

_It was hard, of course, he was forever my little curly haired boy that was so curious about the world around him. But, I had to remind myself, he was much safer here in 1956 than he ever would've been in the past had he stayed with Jamie. He could have lost a limb, or even worse, his life, if he'd stayed. Lord knows he would have followed James Alexander Malcolm Mackinzie Fraser to hell and back if he'd ask it of him._

_It's spring time now, the flowers are finally in bloom and the sun has started to shine again. Fergus is humoring his little sister, allowing her to drag him around our backyard and play on the new swing set I'd gotten her this past Christmas._

_He may be almost nineteen, but he loves his little sister so much and would do anything to make her smile._

_Brianna's always been an avid reading, curious about the world around her much like I was as a child, but still, the stones are… a whole different kind of knowledge to have. That's why we've never spoken of the past with her, never mentioned the stones, for I fear the knowledge would be far too confusing for her to handle at such a young age, no matter how intelligent she is._

_It's not like the fanfare of Christmas where we can let her believe in an old man that delivers presents. The stones are… real… and confusing, something I still don't fully understand._

_Fergus and I have our chats about the past, usually once Brianna has gone to bed or she's in the living room playing. The conversations have grown few and far between, however, the older he's gotten. Fergus has handled coming here much better than I, for I still live in my own world sometimes, dreaming of the day I can somehow get back to Jamie. Not that that's possible. He died on the battlefield at Culloden, has been gone for over two hundred years, and yet… I still see him in my dreams. Curly red hair bouncing as we ride our horse together, those blue eyes raking down my naked body in our most intimate moments, those strong hands that would lock with mine, making me feel safe… God, how I miss him._

_I wish he could be here. Wish there had been a way for him to travel through the stones as well. He would have been such an amazing father to Brianna, just like he'd been to Fergus the short time we were all together._

_But I must put those thoughts away. I'd promised Mrs. Graham to stop chasing after a ghost; I need to move on with my life, my children have always been my anchor to reality, so I need just focus on them..._

_My eight year old's giggles bring me back to the present, and I laugh from the kitchen window as I watch Fergus twirl her around, her sundress billowing in the warm breeze._

" _Fergus!" she laughs, head flying back, her long, red hair swirling around them. "Go faster!"_

_God, she is so much like him. Her hair the same shade of auburn as his, her eyes crinkle the way his did, and that smile, oh that smile. I sometimes sneak into her room at night, pulling the blankets over her shoulders, just to gaze at her._

_My darling girl is so beautiful. And she smiles in her sleep, just like Jamie did. My heart aches sometimes looking at her. She has mannerisms of his that catch me by surprise in the most unexpected moments. The way she'll laugh at a joke, or the look on her face when her eyes glance sidelong to Fergus when they're playing with one another. It makes me happy, having a part of him with me forever, a daily reminder of the greatest love I've ever experienced. But, on the other hand, she is a daily reminder of the life I'll never have again._

_Fergus has mentioned to me, on more than one occasion, how Brianna reminds him of 'Milord' and it brings a sad smile to my face. Each time he did it, which happened much more when Bree was younger and couldn't catch on to what we were discussing, I'd pat his shoulder, kiss his forehead and tell him that she was our special piece of Jamie that no one else got to have._

_Sighing, I step away from the window, making my way to the oven to start dinner as the sounds of laughter from both of my children fill the yard._

" _You are cheating!" I hear Fergus cry, and I laugh, knowing that he's still just a big kid at heart. He laughs, and I hear Bree's little giggles join him._

_There's a boisterous, "Fergus, stop!" followed by more laughter and something about being tickled, and I smile, thankful that no matter what, they will always have each other._

"Fergus!" she squeals, squirming on the bed as he tickles her foot again, "Stop!"

Shaking myself out of my musings, I laugh as I watch Fergus tickling Brianna until she can hardly breathe.

I have to put a stop to it, though I do love seeing them together like this still, and remind them once more about Roger being asleep down the hall.

He was gracious enough to let us stay for a few days, and I don't want us to be a bother.

Once they're settled, I ask them if they want to go see some famous landmarks tomorrow, and Brianna perks up, the history aficionado inside of her clearly excited at the prospect. "Definitely!" she exclaims, rattling on about one of the books she'd checked out from the library a few months ago about famous castles all throughout Europe and how there were several mentioned in the Scotland section.

Looking over to Fergus, I catch his eye, and he nods. We all agree, then, and I make a game plan in my mind. I'll take them to Lallybroch, and, oh, we need to stop by the town clerk's office so I can trace the deed to it and see if it stayed in the family. I also want to visit Craigh Na Dun, secretly hoping that Brianna will be able to hear the stones and finally confirm the theory Fergus and I came up with years ago about the time travel being genetic.

"Can we go see that place I read about?" Brianna asks, her nose scrunching as she seems to think back over the book of Scottish culture she'd thumbed through on our trip over here. When we decided to end our London trip early to come to Scotland, she'd dragged us to the local bookstore to buy a travel book about this place for her to read. She was so much like Frank in that respect; she loved history and learning about new places, always had. "Fort William, I think it was called."

My head snaps up, eyes sharper than I mean for them to be as Brianna inches away from me slightly, eyes looking at me in alarm. "Have you ever been?"

Fergus' eyes catch mine, and there's a palpable shift in the air in the room. Fergus, of course, knew of the torture Jamie endured at the place, had heard his father and Murtagh make mention of it in Paris, though we didn't speak of it often. He doesn't know the extent of what happened, however I always wondered if Jamie opened up to Fergus during one of their private talks, a way to bond with him somehow. That seems like something Jamie would have done.

I smile at the thought, knowing how much my husband cared for Fergus, but my eyes catch his and I discreetly shake my head. Now is certainly not the time to get into everything with Brianna.

"Once," I reply, curtly adding, "didn't much care for the place."

Bree nods, adding nonchalantly, "It looked kind of creepy in the photos," as she wraps her arms around herself, "but it might be a cool place to look at."

I shake my head, telling her it was an eerie place. "Lots of prisoners were killed there in the eighteenth century."

She agrees, launching into a lesson about the history of prisons in Scotland. I smirk, knowing this has always been her little niche, she always excelled at history in school. "Roger gave me a book today, actually," she says. "It was about different Scottish landmarks that have been important to their history, so I wanna look through it tomorrow and see if I can learn anything else."

"You will be a true Scot by the end of this trip," Fergus quips, smirking at his sister.

Though the words are meant in jest, the stab of pain that runs through my heart is overwhelming. She is a true Scot, down to the marrow of her being, but I can't tell her that. Not yet, anyway.

We all talk for a few more minutes, me telling the children what I have planned for us tomorrow, but before long, Bree's eyes are growing heavy, her head drooping as she tries her hardest to stay awake.

Grinning, Fergus stands, declaring it time for bed. "Come on, Bree," he whispers, shaking her arm gently. "Let's go to sleep."

She stands groggily, but awake enough to kiss my cheek, bidding me a goodnight. Fergus does the same before they make their exit.

I smile watching them go, and as I try to sleep that night, images of Jamie so clear I can almost convince myself he's in the room with me fill my mind.

{***********************}

The next morning we join Roger in the kitchen for breakfast.

He tells us that he's in his second year of University where he's studying history. Brianna looks up at that, telling him all about how her father was a historian and that she loved to read about different places.

"Ah," the twenty-year old chuckles, "No wonder ye were so excited over that book of Scotland I gave you."

She giggles, nodding and smiling as Fiona, the young girl who helps keep the estate in proper order, makes her way into the kitchen.

"Mornin' everybody," she says sweetly, tucking her house key into her purse.

I'd come to learn that Fiona was Mrs. Graham's granddaughter, which made me immediately feel as if I had a connection with the girl. She was sweet, and clearly had a crush on Roger which was adorable, but I wanted to talk to her later about the legend of the fairies and the stones to see if she, too, believed in it like her grandmother did.

We finish our food, and I tell Roger and Fiona that we are going to go explore for a few hours.

Roger nods, saying he'll be here packing up some of the Reverend's things, and Fiona assures us she'll be puttering around, helping Roger but also tending to the house as is her job.

Smiling, I make my way from the kitchen, checking on Fergus and Brianna to make sure they're not wasting time in getting ready for the day.

Within half an hour, we are all dressed and ready for the day.

Our first stop is to the town clerk's office, where I inquire about the deed to Lallybroch.

Fergus, bless him, does his best to keep Brianna entertained by flipping through books about random Scottish buildings and castles while I do my own research.

Once the kind lady locates the deed, I get emotional. Seeing that title that I so vividly remember signing as a tear dropped from my eye brought back so many memories.

"I wonder how it ever got to Jenny," Fergus whispers, trying not to draw attention to us. He's managed to sneak away from Brianna, leaving her completely entranced in a book about castles around the country and which famous royals occupied each one.

I look over my shoulder from the paper to him and shrug. Jamie had entrusted him to deliver it, but of course, our boy being the sneaky thing that he is, followed us to the stones instead. "I guess we'll never know. Perhaps someone found it after the battle…"

He nods and gives a little _hmph_ of agreement before stepping away to flip through some other documents.

While there, I ask the woman to also run a genealogical trace on Roger, to which Fergus sends me a questioning look.

"He told me yesterday that he's actually a Mackenzie," I explain nonchalantly, "I'm just curious."

Chuckling, Fergus states, "Of course you are," that I just roll my eyes at with a smile.

When we leave there, we stop by Lallybroch, and I have to force the tears down as I sit on those front steps again after so many years away. Fergus distracts Bree, chasing her around the pebbled yard. Hearing their crunching footsteps and laughter, I'm reminded of when we were here before and how Jamie and I would watch wee Jamie playing with Fergus in that exact spot.

"This place is awesome!" Bree shouts, chasing Fergus in her attempt to tag him. She stops then, panting as she tries to catch her breath. The tiny hairs at the crown of her head are matted with sweat, and she reaches up, wiping at her forehead with her arm. "Can you imagine _living_ here?" she asks, hands resting on her hips as she looks up to the very top of the house in awe. "I mean, when it wasn't all torn up and the door was still there." She laughs, pointing behind me to the door that is not covered with a slab of wood and a _Keep Out_ sign.

She chatters on, bouncing around the bottom step as she informs me of random facts about castles and estates built back then. "... and people actually built _entire_ house by hand!"

Smiling at her enthusiasm, I nod, remembering how Jamie once told me of the way his father built this home from the ground up, and I try to keep up a brave face as I think of the way Brianna should've been able to hear this story from her father.

I inhale deeply as Brianna skips off to play with her brother again, and I practically breathe the place in, wishing that being here was enough to send us all back in time. But it's not. My eyes mist over and a lone tear slips down my cheek as I bring a hand up to my lips, doing my best to stop the anguished cry from escaping my lips. I look to my left, to the archway that I watched religiously every day with Jenny waiting for our husbands to come home, and my breath hitches in my throat as I see Jamie standing there, kilt perfectly in place, dirk on his hip, his red hair shimmering beneath the afternoon sun. He's got a small grin on his face, that little knowing one he would send my way far too often, the one he had when he thought he had a secret, or some juicy piece of gossip to deliver. Cheeky little thing that he was.

Biting my lips, my eyes sink closed and my mind whispers _I love you_ to the figment of my imagination.

Opening my eyes, I stand from the steps, clapping my hands to gather the children.

With one last inhale, finally finding the strength I need, I ask, "Are we ready to go to Craigh Na Dun?"

{**************************}

I park the car, and we all pile out, Brianna excited to see the stones.

She wasn't as excited to visit this site as she was to see historical buildings like the prisons and castles, but she seems far more interested now, and I wonder if the chat I saw her having with Fiona this morning has anything to do with it. After their talk, Brianna had giggled, flouncing around the living room and flapping her arms like a butterfly. I didn't think much of it hours ago, but now, well, I can't help but wonder if Fiona shared the legend of the fairies with her after all…

Fergus grips my elbow, smiling softly, encouragingly. "Are you ready?"

Nodding, I pat his arm, murmuring, "What if… what if she hears the stones?"

My eyes glance to Bree, who is off twirling in the grass at the bottom of the hill, adorably oblivious to my inner turmoil.

"Well," Fergus shrugs, that shy smile of his blooming on his face, "then we have our answers." His face lights up even more then as he adds, "And perhaps we can finally tell her the truth!"

I know keeping all of this from Brianna has been so hard for him, he's longed for the day to be able to truly open up to his sister about his childhood, and it breaks my heart that he hasn't been able to.

Nodding, I swallow thickly, telling Brianna they can go up the hill now.

With an excited squeal, she bounces up ahead of us, singing a song to herself that I can't quite make out as her long hair flows behind her. I'd pulled it into a high ponytail this morning for her, but as the hours have passed, it now sits low on her shoulders, barely holding on to the blue ribbon it's tied with.

"Wait for me!" Fergus calls, laughing as he races her to the top of the hill.

When I finally reach the top, the sight of the stones, up close for the first time in over a decade, I stand there stunned, my eyes drawn to the one I know could take me back in time with the tiniest of touches.

"What's that _sound_?" Brianna asks, covering her ears as her lips draw up in a grimace.

Her question pulls me from my trance, and I look at Fergus. His eyes are wide, looking at me as if the final piece to a puzzle has finally been found.

We smile, my heart beating far too quickly to process the emotions swirling inside of me.

The buzzing. That low hum that sounds like a swarm of bees. It gets louder the closer you get to the stone, and I watch, horrified, as Brianna walks closer to it.

"Bree!" Fergus and I yell in unison, both of us pulling her back by the shoulders.

She grunts, wiggling out of our grasp as she questions with a grunt, "What's the matter?"

Sighing with relief, I take her hand, apologizing but taking her away from the stones.

We all make our way to the bottom of the hill, perching on a bench they've placed there. "Bree…" I start, not entirely sure where to go from here. "That buzzing you heard…"

She nods, giggling as she says, "Sounded like a swarm of bees were coming for us!"

Fergus grins as he flops onto the grass at our feet, drawing his knees up to his chest.

He looks at me seriously, a knowing glint in his eye. "There is something we need to tell you," he says softly, a hand landing on Brianna's knee.

She looks from her brother to me, giving me a questioning gaze. "What's wrong?" She says we're scaring her, and I shake my head, not wanting her to worry.

With a deep breath, I explain, as best I can to a twelve year old, that some people have the ability to travel through the stones. "I've done it before, sweetheart, and ended up a very long time ago in the past."

There's a lull as I let her process my words. Her brows furrow and her head tilts, her eyes glancing to Fergus, then back to me. Her confused scowl melts, her brows raising up as an excited grin creeps onto her face. "Are you a fairy!?" she asks full of excitement, her face lighting up as the possibility clearly plays through her mind.

She bounces a bit in her seat, and Fergus stifles a laugh, shaking his head at his sister.

"I'm not a fairy, darling," I assure her, and her face falls back into confusion. Smiling, I tell her about the first time I was in Scotland and how I came up here to pick some flowers.

I recount hearing the buzzing sound and how, for some reason, I reached out toward the stone. "Once my hand touched it," I trail off, sighing. I shake my head before continuing, "Well, I… I found myself in the year 1743."

Brianna's eyes widen as she breathes out a, "Woah," that I can't help but to chuckle at. "That's when the war of Austiran Succession happened!"

I give her an uneasy smile, never being one to know random tidbits of history like she did. "Oh," I chuckle awkwardly, "well… yes, I, I suppose, if you say so."

"It was." She gives me a resolute nod, one that I can't question, so I trust her word on it with amusement.

"So you're like…" her brow scrunches, as if she's trying to piece it all together, "a time traveler?"

Nodding, I tell her more, slowly navigating my way through the truth, but leaving out the parts my daughter doesn't need to know (like the violence, anything to do with Black Jack Randall, and most of the battles)

I give her the most condensed version I can, for we'd be here until the early hours of the next day if I told her every bit of my tale.

"And that's where I met," I hesitate, not knowing how she'll handle this news, "your father… Jamie."

She looks at Fergus, then me, saying, "Daddy's name was Frank. Are you feeling okay?"

Bree reaches out, feeling my head with the back of her hand with a little grin on her face.

Smiling softly, I tell her that she's right, but, I explain, "Daddy… adopted you. Jamie is who… made you, with me." The explanation is maladroit, but how does one explain biological fathers and how babies are made to their daughter? Even though I attempted to have _that_ talk with her a few months ago, I just couldn't bring myself to do it. Not yet.

"Like how you adopted Fergus!" she proclaims, her eyes lighting up.

And thank god for the story we've told her her whole life, because, yes, this makes it much easier to explain. "Yes, darling," I nod with a sigh, "just like that."

We give her a few minutes to process, her face grows serious and I can see the questions forming in her mind.

"There's something else," I say, my words trailing off. I'm terrified, completely and utterly unsure of how she'll take the knowledge that she might be a time traveler as well.

Bree blinks, her eyes focusing back on me as she asks me what else I need to tell her.

With a long, deep inhale, I steady myself, willing my heart to slow down. "Well, you see," I begin, looking between both of my children, "Fergus and I researched the stones one time, a little bit, and," I take her hand in mine, squeezing affectionately, "darling, we think it might be genetic."

Her little brown eyes widen as she sits up straighter, her mouth falling open. "I can travel too!?"

I nod, telling her we think so since she can hear the stones like they can. I explain that hearing the stones is one of the attributes of being a time traveler, but there is no sure fire way to know exactly without trying.

She sits there, silently, and I watch as her eyes glance over her shoulder to the stones, then back to us, seemingly in a daze.

My eyes slide over to Fergus, and he's watching her, nothing but loving concern in his eyes for his little sister.

After a while, she finally speaks. "So," she sighs, twirling her pony tail around her finger, "if I can travel through the stones, and my other dad is in the past, can… can we go see him?"

I bite my lip as my eyes mist over, and I shake my head, telling her that Jamie passed away.

"Oh," she breathes, her eyes flittering between the two of us. "How?"

I close my eyes for a moment, gathering myself before telling her that there was a battle, the Battle of Culloden, that he fought in and died.

"I remember reading about that battle," she tells us, giving us facts about the jacobite rebellion, and I smile, not wanting to take this moment away from her by telling her that yes, we know, we lived through it all.

Her bottom lip trembles after a beat of silence, and she sniffles as she whispers, "Why do all of my dad's die?"

If a heart could physically break, this is what it would feel like. My poor, sweet baby girl. I pull her into my arms as a tear trickles down her cheek. I feel Fergus join us on the bench, wrapping his arms around us both.

"Oh, Bree…" I kiss the top of her head, giving her a moment to get out her emotions before I suggest we head back to Roger's house for supper.

We all stand, Brianna wiping daintily under one eye as she takes Fergus' hand.

Making our way over to the car, we climb in. I glance out the window, up to the stones once more, and as I pull the car away, I make a silent vow to find out the truth about Jamie one way or another. I need to know, and now, so does Brianna.

{***********************}

The car ride home was silent for the most part. I could feel Brianna's mind spinning a mile a minute. I wanted to ask her about it, see if she had any more questions, but I know her, know how she works, therefore knew that when she was ready, she'd speak.

Twenty minutes before we get back to the house, she finally speaks up, asking us about Paris, then finally about Jamie. She asks Fergus how he knew he could travel through the stones, and that brings a bit of laughter to the otherwise tense car ride.

"I didn't," he shrugs with a grin. "I'd only heard of the legend of the fairies in the small amount of time I was in Scotland with Milord and Mi… Mom." He smiles at me through the rearview mirror, _Milady_ clearly wanting to escape out of habit after saying _Milord_. I smile back before he continues, "I, of course, did not believe it. But that day… I watched Mom disappear through this huge stone." He shakes his head, tears brimming in his eyes. "I was only ten. I did not understand what was happening. All I knew was that the only mother I'd ever known had just vanished before my eyes, and I couldn't have that."

He tells her of how he ran to the stones, didn't even stop to consider that he might just smash face first into a rock and get injured. "I ran right past Milord, did not say a word to him. I was just screaming for Milady to come back to me…" His eyes close as he inhales, and I realize he hasn't told this story in so long, I haven't even heard all of these details. It must feel freeing to finally let it all out. "It is my biggest regret in life, that I did not say goodbye to Milord."

His shoulder slump and his face is full of guilt. I want to reach out so desperately, to squeeze his shoulder or hug him, damn this car for being the place we finally got to talk about it all. Even though I can't reach him, I assure him that Jamie would understand.

He nods, a small smile on the corners of his lips as he looks back to Brianna.

I look back to the road, then glance at Brianna through the mirror. Her face looks so confused, reality versus this fantasy we're feeding her obviously at war in her little mind.

"I know it seems confusing, sweetheart," I say, focusing back on the road.

"But it is the truth," Fergus finishes for me.

She's quiet, which I understand; it's a lot to take in. We leave her to her thoughts once more, but as I pull into the driveway at Roger's house, she finally says in a tentative murmur, "I believe you."

I put the car in park, turning to look at the back seat with a huge smile on my face.

Fergus pulls her into his side, kissing the top of her head.

"I don't know how, and… I don't really understand it," she adds, her _I_ dragging out as a smirk grows, "but… it's kind of cool." She giggles at that. "It's kind of like one of my fairytales you used to read to me before bed but in real life!" I smile at that, thankful that no matter how wise and well read she may be, she still has that child-like wonder and can accept this odd truth somehow. With one more snicker from her, probably at the confused look on my face, she shrugs her shoulders and hops out of the car, hollering for us to hurry up so we can eat dinner.

Well then.

"That was… easier than I imagined," Fergus states with a chuckle, patting me on the shoulder as he slides out of the car, running to the house to catch up with his sister.

Yes, yes it was… I've wanted to tell Brianna for so long, her whole life really, and now that it's out in the open, I feel like my daughter can get to know the real me, the parts of me that I've kept hidden for over a decade in fear that I would say something wrong or out of place and cause the truth to bubble out.

I'd promised Frank I'd stop, told him I wouldn't ever speak of the past again. Hell, I'd even promised Mrs. Graham that I would stop chasing after his ghost. But now, being here, with the truth finally revealed, I feel a new sense of hope bubbling up inside of me.

We can talk about it. I can tell her things I never have before.

Fergus and I can research the battle of Culloden like we never have before, find out what really happened to the people we loved so long ago.

I climb out of the car, a huge smile on my face, and I think, just maybe, this could be the start of something wonderful.

{************************}

_Thanks again for all the reviews on the last chapter, I was blown away! If you want, look me up/follow me on Twitter (same user name); I don't have many OL mutuals so it would be fun to connect with some more people lol and as always, stay tuned for part 3… Jamie! ;)_


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for those who stuck with this story; I know the second part was a bit longer than the first. But good news! I decided to turn this into a 4 part story because… well… it got really wordy lol oops! I hope y'all enjoy this part as well!
> 
> I took some liberties with the timeline to fix some things that I don't like lol and to make it make sense for the timeline I've created haha… Enjoy and please review! :)
> 
> {***************************}

**Coming Home - Part Three:**

I hold onto my children for dear life as the stones pull us in, shrouding us in darkness, a vortex of unknown.

My arms are gripped tightly to them, praying to whatever higher being is out there that we all make it to the same place. Together. And in one piece.

We land with a thud, and as I open my eyes, I can tell we have successfully been transported at Craigh Na Dun. But in what year? What century? Surely the timeline Roger and I discovered was accurate. At least I hope it was.

As I look around, I'm reminded of the last time I traveled through the stones and how I've spent the last twelve years wishing I could come back.

Twelve years since I woke up in that hospital bed, alone and terrified, only to discover that Fergus had come through right after me.

"Mama?" I hear Bree croak out, coughing as she sits up.

Oh. Thank Christ. She's here, alive, sitting next to me with all the curious wonderment a twelve year old could have in this situation.

My head whips to my other side, watching with relief as Fergus' eyes crack open as well. He's twenty-two now, a grown man, but I still see him as my little boy with that curly brown hair and sweet smile.

I pull them close to me, as close as possible with the makeshift eighteenth century clothing I'd made between us, and kiss both of their heads one at a time.

I close my eyes, breathing in their sweet scents, thinking back to when we decided to travel through the stones…

" _I think… I think I found something," Roger says, coming into the study._

_Ever since Fergus and I told Brianna the truth about Jamie up at the stones, we've spent weeks here in Scotland, researching and studying as much as we can._

_Roger had been hesitant, unable to see the truth in what I was telling him, but I knew that we needed someone who loved history like he did to help us research it all._

_Fiona, of course, had been more than willing to help in whatever way she could. She'd grown up hearing about the stones from her grandmother, which proved to be a big help in convincing Roger._

_Though I don't think he truly believed Fergus and I, he was still kind enough to research. He claimed a good historian never passes up an opportunity to study the past._

_It was summer break, so luckily I didn't have to worry about Brianna missing school. We could take our time studying the battle of Culloden and truly soak up as much Scottish culture as possible._

" _What did you find?" I ask him as he joins me in the leather chairs in front of the fireplace._

_Fergus and Bree come in, both with their noses buried in open books, and I smirk at how alike they really are._

" _Well," he says, looking between us all. He clears his throat, saying, "Some research the Reverend did at the request of your husband, Frank."_

_He unfolds a piece of paper, and I'm stunned. I didn't know Frank had ever contacted the Reverend about all of this, but I glance down at the paper in his hand as Roger informs me, "I'm not sure if he ever sent any word to Boston."_

" _Well what does it say?" Fergus asks, closing the book in his hand. He takes Brianna's book as well, placing them on a wooden table as they sit in the chairs across from me and Roger._

_There's a lull in the conversation before Roger clears his throat again, almost unsure. He looks to Fergus and Bree, then finally to me, explaining that after the Battle of Culloden, a few Jacobite soldiers took refuge in an old house for two days._

_I watch him, entranced, curious as to what he's about to reveal. I hear words like taken out to be shot, Fraser, escaped execution… My mind tries to piece it all together as I tell them that there were many Frasers on the battlefield that day. My mind cannot simply accept what he's telling me, not after I've spent twelve long years telling myself that Jamie was dead._

_Roger says there were only five Fraser officers, and four are certainly known to have been killed._

" _Who was the fifth?" Fergus pipes in, a hopeful look in his misty brown eyes as he reaches out to me, taking my hand._

_My eyes turn to his, tears brimming in them as Roger smiles and says, "James Fraser."_

" _My father!" Brianna adds, an excited giggle breaking some of the tension around us._

" _Jamie," I breathe, a smile growing on my face. Then it falls as reality hits me… he didn't die at Culloden._

_He survived._

_That brilliant, loving, idiot of a man actually survived…_

_Fergus stands from the chair with force, hands flying into his hair as he grips at the roots. I grab his arm before he can do something rash, like run out of this house and to the stones without doing any kind of research, though his desire to immediately see Jamie is one that I share._

" _He survived," I whisper, looking to Brianna with a watery smile._

_The sun is setting in the sky, and for a brief moment, I watch the pink and purple horizon, thoughts of Jamie whirling all around me._

_Fergus finally speaks, his arm propped against the mantle of the fireplace. "If that's true then…" he trails off as we both look at one another, the end of his sentence not needed, for we all know what he's thinking._

" _We have to go back," I finish for him, smiling brightly to Fergus before my eyes focus back on Brianna._

_It's not definite, of course. I would never take Brianna from the only world she'd ever known unless she asked me to, couldn't live with myself if I did, but knowing that Jamie survived, that he might still be alive somewhere on the other side of that stone, fills me with more hope than I've had in over a decade._

" _Let's go!" Brianna shouts, standing with a bounce in her step. "It'll be like a fairytale, Mama!" She chatters on about her beloved princess movies and how if we go back and find Jamie, then I'll be like the princess who finds her true love._

_I grin, shaking my head._

_There's still so much unknown, things we have to figure out. And that's exactly what we do._

_We spend the next several months, American school and my surgeries be damned at this point, researching the timeline._

_Roger proves to be a tremendous help, piecing it all together for us, and finding tidbits about Jamie throughout history._

_We track him down to Ardsmuir Prison, and my heart sinks when I realize he spent several years there._

_After his time there, we lose track of him for a bit, before Roger finds a mention of an A. Malcolm in Edinburgh._

_Tears brim in my eyes as I look down at the excerpt of a poem I'd once recited to Jamie, one that hadn't been written in 1757, and I smile brightly as I exclaim, "That's Jamie, we found him!"_

_I put my sewing skills to work creating as authentic as possible eighteenth century clothing for each of us, and before long, I'm standing at the stones, Jamie's mother's pearls draped around my neck (thanks to Fiona giving them back to me), and my children's hands wrapped securely in mine._

_Breathing deeply, I grip their hands tighter, telling them not to let go. They nod, and I can see the fear in Brianna's face, but the pure excitement in Fergus'._

_Smiling, I ask Bree one more time if this is what she really wants, promising her that it's okay if it isn't. We can go back to Boston and go back to how things used to be._

" _Things can never be like they used to be," she tells me in a way that's so wise beyond her years that it almost knocks me off balance._

_Brianna leans up, kissing my cheek before whispering that she's ready. Fergus and I wrap our arms around her, securing her between us, and I remind them both to picture Jamie in their minds, hoping that somehow that will get us all to the same place._

_I glance over at Roger, who is watching from a distance, still unsure that this is true and fearful that we'll get injured, and I smile, thanking him again for all of his help. He nods, waving to us as we reach out._

_Our hands all touch the stone at the same time, and it may be scary, terrifying really, but as that hum of the stones draws us in, shrouding us in darkness and pulling us back two hundred years into the past, I tell myself that it will all be worth it._

My eyes open, and I look down into the smiling face of my daughter.

"We did it," she whispers, standing up and brushing off the leaves from her skirt.

She's so brave, my little mini-Jamie. She's so much like him, it's unreal. She should be terrified right now, having landed, we hope, in another century, but all she wants to do is walk down the hill and start exploring.

With a grunt as I stand from the ground, Fergus thankfully reaching out to help, we make our way down the hill and away from our passage back to the future.

{***********************}

We spend the next week traveling to Edinburgh, my heart longing to stop by Lallybroch to see Jenny and Ian, but knowing my reappearance would raise far too many questions that I simply did not have answers to (well, I did, but nothing they'd ever be able to fathom).

But now I find myself standing outside his print shop, staring at the _A. Malcolm_ sign, and I'm suddenly filled with more self-doubt than ever before.

What if he's moved on? What if he doesn't find me attractive? What if he doesn't want me here? The questions and insecurities swirl in my mind until I feel a firm hand on my shoulder.

"Milady?"

I smile at the moniker, looking over my shoulder to see Fergus, dressed in the eighteenth century clothing, his long hair, which I've been telling him for months to get cut, falling into his eyes.

"Are… are you ready?" he asks, squeezing my shoulder.

I look down to Bree, who has not stopped staring at everyone and everything with wide, fascinated eyes since we landed in this century, and smile. I cup her cheek, asking, "Are _you_ ready?"

She smiles up at me and Fergus, nodding her head excitedly as she grips her brother's hand.

I look to the building, eyes scanning up the steps to the front door as I breathe in deeply, inhaling, then exhaling as many fears away as I can. My heart is beating so rapidly in my chest, I worry that my children can hear it from where they stand.

Fergus reaches down, gingerly taking my hand as he leads me up the steps.

One, two, three… I count them as we go, trying to focus on anything but my racing heart.

My son stands behind me, holding Bree back with him, somehow knowing that I need a moment to myself. My hand reaches up, smoothing down a curl on the top of my head and those worries bubble up again.

"He's going to be so happy to see you," Fergus whispers, and I bite my lip in utter anticipation hoping that he is correct.

With one more deep inhale, I grab the handle, turning it and stepping inside.

The little bell above the door jingles as we walk in, and before I can take another step, my heart stops when I hear, "Is that you, Geordie?"

My head whips around to look at Fergus, who is beaming ear to ear, and he gives me a nod. Brianna visibly bites her lip as she tightens her grip on Fergus' hand, a small, excited little smile forming on her lips. I take a few steps over to the banister where I hear his voice again after so, _so_ many years apart. "Where'd ye go to get the ash? All the way to Glasgow?"

I watch, amazed, as I see him standing there. His body still looks the same, incredible like always, and I long to see his face. My throat goes dry, and I lick my lips, my heart preparing my mind of what to say.

My breath is ragged, shaking out of me as I finally tell him, "It isn't Geordie."

The air seems to thicken, I can feel the tension, and possibly confusion, rolling off of him in waves. I look back at Fergus and Bree, unsure, and they give me little twin nods and comforting smiles. "It's me," I say, turning back to look down at Jamie with misty eyes, "Claire."

He turns then, finally giving me a peak at his gorgeous face. It seems to have barely aged, the lucky bastard, his hair has gotten longer, but it's still him. My Jamie.

My heart flutters as his eyes finally land on mine, and I can feel the corner of my mouth lifting in a smile. I go to say something, anything, but before I can say anything more, his eyes roll backwards, his body falling as he faints to the ground.

Fergus and Brianna run to me when they hear the clatter, and we hurriedly make our way down the stairs.

"Jamie?" I say, shaking his shoulders.

After a few moments of trying to rouse him, he comes to, and I smile, reminding myself to breathe when I find that I am closer to him than I ever thought was possible again.

"Ye're real," he breathes in astonishment, his eyes wide with disbelief. He looks as if he's peering at a ghost, and I guess, in some ways, it does feel like that.

Tears gather in my eyes as I nod, drawing my lips in to keep them from trembling. "So are you," I reply back, my voice shaking as I reach out to touch his cheek gently.

His rough hand covers mine, and god, I have longed to feel his skin on mine for twelve whole years. This is incredible. Jamie's eyes glance around, clearly unable to understand what's happening, and I grin, unsure of what to do myself.

I melt on the spot as his hand squeezes around my fingers that he's holding to his chest, and his eyes scan up to mine.

Smiling, I shake my head. "I thought you were dead." The words seem to want to stick in my throat. I knew he was dead, spent the last decade telling myself that every time thoughts of him crept into my mind. But now, being here and seeing him, my brain almost seems incapable of comprehending what is happening, can't understand that I'm actually _here_ looking at _him_.

"Claire," he rasps out, those fingers still stroking mine lovingly.

We both chuckle breathily, both in utter shock that this is true. This is real. And we spend a moment, completely lost in one another's eyes as if there is nothing and no one else in the world besides each other.

But there are. Two others in fact, the two most important people in both mine and Jamie's lives.

His eyes finally leave mine, landing on Fergus and our little redhead who is hiding behind him.

Jamie sits up straighter, his eyes going from the boy's to mine, questioning.

"Milord?" Fergus asks, head tilting to the side as a smile tugs at the edge of his lips. "It's me."

"Fergus?"

He and I both nod in Jamie's direction, my eyes growing soft when he looks at me, that look that only a proud parent can wear. He may not have seen him for twelve years, but Jamie is still just as proud of how grown up our son is as I am.

"Ye've gotten so big," he says, huffing out as a smile forms on his lips. "Thought ye were Claire's, well," he gestures between us, and my eyes grow wide. "Ye know."

"Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, Jamie," I hiss, shaking my head in disgust. "No!"

We both stand then, Jamie's eyes falling to Brianna.

His breath wooshes out of him, and I can see the tears forming on his lashes. "And ye must be…"

"I'm… I'm Brianna," she says, still half hidden behind Fergus' leg, her hand tucked into his.

Jamie looks at me, stunned, and I beam, nodding and telling him that this is our daughter.

"A daughter," he chokes out, a tear falling down his cheek as he stares at her. He steps closer, asking her sweetly if he can hug her.

Brianna nods, of course, stepping out from behind Fergus. "I've waited so long," he breathes as Brianna steps into his embrace. Her little arms stretch out, wrapping around his waist as Jamie's arms link around her little body.

I stand there, crying, watching as father and daughter embrace one another for the very first time. Jamie whispers something into her hair, and though I can't quite make it out, I know it's some loving Gaelic sentiment.

He kisses the top of her hair, then pulls Fergus into their embrace as well, crying as he holds his children for the first time in over a decade.

"Brianna," he says again as they pull apart. He smiles over at me, then back to our little girl, adding, "I'm sorry lass, but what a terrible name ye mother gave ye!"

Mildly offended, but knowing that's just Jamie to speak his mind, I look to Fergus who smirks, then I inform him that it's not an awful name. "It's beautiful. I promised you I'd name our child after your father, Brian."

His face softens as he looks back to Brianna with a wink, "Och, a fine name it 'tis then."

She giggles, her cheeks growing pink at the attention from her newly found father, and she cautiously walks over to me and takes my hand.

Jamie walks over to Fergus, placing his hand on his arm and squeezing. "I thought," he clears his throat, looking down, then back to him, "well I thought all this time that ye might've died, ye ken?" Jamie's head nods toward Fergus as he adds, "I'd always hoped ye found Claire, but I wasna sure."

I pout in his direction at those words, giving him a sad smile. I can relate better than anyone else can, for I spent the same amount of time wondering about _him_. At that, he admits that he needs to change his pants since he spilled the ink pot when he fainted.

We all snicker, Brianna the loudest, and follow him to the back of the print shop.

Once in the room, Jamie having excused himself to change, Fergus, Bree and I settle as best we can onto the chair and cot, Bree climbing into my lap. She may be twelve, but she's thin for her age and can still rest comfortably against me.

It's awkward, being here after so long. Who is James Fraser now? Have we both changed too much to make this work?

Insecurities rise inside of me once more just as Jamie comes back into the room. He pats Fergus on the shoulder, smiling at him as he joins me and Brianna on the little cot. He gives her knee a gentle pat, still looking unsure of how to treat her.

Jamie, of course, asks about our children right off the bat, and I smile, looking at Fergus, then back to Jamie.

I pull out a stash of photographs I'd hidden in a pocket of my dress and show them to him, letting him take his time as he studies each and every one.

He sheepishly pulls out a pair of glasses, saying his eyesight is not what it used to be, and I chuckle, letting him know he's as dashing as ever. He could never do anything that would make him less attractive to me, anyway. He's creeping closer to forty now, and if his eyesight is the only thing that's started to change, then he's in a better position than I am at forty-two.

He looks down, stopping on one, one of my favorites, of Brianna and Fergus reading a book together on the couch. They were younger then, Brianna five and Fergus fifteen, but he always loved to read to his little sister, and that was just one of the many times I captured the moment on camera. I'm so glad I did, too, because now I get to share these snapshots of our life with Jamie.

He asks a litany of questions, causing me to smile—he asks about the future, and what life is like, but focuses a lot on our children, how Fergus adjusted to everything, what was Brianna like as a wee lass, what was her first word…

Fergus answers that one with a laugh, sticking his tongue out at Bree. "Dog. Definitely dog." Our son laughs again, shaking his head as he tells Jamie, " _Everything_ was a dog."

"Until she also learned 'no'," I add affectionately, catching Fergus' eye but squeezing Bree around her middle.

"Aye, they learn that one fast," Jamie states, grinning as he looks back down at the photographs in his hand, saying all of Jenny's bairns learned to say "no" first.

Brianna chuckles as I tickle her stomach, squirming off my lap and in between me and Jamie. "Well I've learned a lot more words since then," she sasses back to her brother, poking her tongue out toward Fergus in retaliation.

I watch over the top of her head as Jamie stares at her in wonderment, and I can't help the smile painted on my face.

We share a knowing gaze when he glances over to me before glimpsing down to the pictures and sees one of Brianna and Fergus standing together by the front door.

I chuckle to myself, remembering how annoyed Fergus had been that I wanted to take their picture on his last day of high school (he really shouldn't have been surprised, though. I took their picture every first and last day of their schooling).

" _Mom," he sighs, and my heart breaks just a little bit, hearing the usual, annoyed teenager tone for one of the last times before he goes off to college. "I'm going to be late."_

_I chuckle softly, smiling as I fix the tie on his uniform one last time. "I just want you to look nice for your last day of school."_

_Fergus rolls his eyes good naturedly, always willing to humor me, and I smile fondly. I love that boy so much._

" _What about me?!" Bree wonders, skipping into the kitchen with a twirl._

_We all laugh as Fergus fans her hair to the side, and Brianna grunts, telling him not to mess up her hair for school. He does it again, as any big brother would, and I swat at his shoulder, telling him to be nice._

" _You look lovely, darling," I assure her, pressing a kiss to her cheek and handing her her lunch pail. "Now you both have a wonderful day at school!"_

_They start to leave, but I see my camera on the entryway table. I'd placed it there last night for this very reason, knowing we'd be so busy trying to get out of the door in the morning that I might forget. "Picture time!"_

_My children groan in unison, Bree being the better sport about it as she pulls her long hair over her shoulders, asking if it looks alright for the picture._

_I assure her it does as I reach over, quaffing Fergus' hair enough to look presentable for a photograph._

_Fergus wraps his arm around Brianna, pulling her close. They both smile when I direct them to, and I take a few, allowing them to make silly faces in the last one._

" _Perfect!" I exclaim, excited to see how the pictures turn out once I get the film developed._

_My eyes water looking at the two of them, knowing my babies are growing up far quicker than I would like._

_Glancing at my watch, I tell them they better get going, but before they scurry out the door, Bree asks if we can go to the swimming pool when they get home._

_I laugh, saying we'll have to see. "We'll have all summer to do that."_

" _And today can be the first day of many that we do!"_

_I grin up at Fergus who catches my eye, sending me a matching grin as he rolls his eyes. God, I'm going to miss him so much, and as they make their way from the house, I think of ways to convince Fergus to live here when he starts college. Perhaps that car he's been asking me about…_

_Laughing, I grab my briefcase, readying it for another day of medical school and before I leave, I throw an extra peanut butter and jelly sandwich in my box to share with Joe._

I'm pulled from my thoughts when I hear a grunt of shock come from beside me. I look over at Jamie, then down to the photographs in his hand and see that he is horrified at one of Fergus and Brianna on the beach last summer.

"Christ," he exclaims, looking up in distress to Fergus.

The children and I laugh, and I explain that bikinis are what girls wear in the future, and though he has a hard time coming to terms with it, he seems to accept it well enough as he smirks over to Fergus and points at the beach photo. "Och, ye've grown into a braw lad, haven't ye?"

Fergus' cheeks grow pink as he looks down, then back up with a cock of his brow and tells him bluntly, "Yes, I have."

"His _girlfriend_ certainly thinks so," Brianna mocks, scrunching her nose across the way to Fergus.

"Girlfriend?" I ask, stunned at this news.

Brianna giggles, cupping her hands around her mouth and leaning into my ear as she says, _Rebecca_ , and I smile, remembering the girl I'd met at the house once or twice for study sessions they were having.

Fergus rolls his eyes, assuring me it was nothing. "I only took her on a few dates, Mom."

He grins over to Jamie then, and I roll my eyes at them; I should have known a dozen years apart wouldn't be enough to break their bond.

"Mom," Jamie murmurs, smirking over to me. "I like how that sounds."

My head tilts to the side as I smile at him, then motion back to the photographs, wanting him to continue.

He flips through the rest, beaming as he looks at one of Fergus chopping wood while Brianna stands to the side holding up one of the logs. We tell him that Boston gets very cold in the winter, so it was a necessary skill.

"Fergie taught me how to chop wood last Christmas!"

Jamie smiles at her, having a short conversation with our daughter about wood and how it was important to keep the house warm.

"Plus you can turn on the heat," she laughs, her eyes scanning over to me as realization dawns on her. "Which… you… can't do here," she says, head falling back as the reality of certain comforts of home disappear.

Fergus and I give her sympathetic looks, but Brianna being Brianna just shrugs, saying it'll be fun to learn new ways of living.

We spend the next several hours explaining everything that happened—waking up in the hospital, Fergus being there, everything with Frank…

I don't spend too much time on my other husband, knowing Jamie and I will talk about it later when Fergus and Bree aren't around. There are some details about my marriage that I kept hidden from my children, for good reason, and I don't want them to hear about it now.

The details of his life after Culloden are still a bit fuzzy, only having so many historical documents to work with. So we talk, and I inquire into it, and Jamie explains that he spent six years hiding out in a cave near Lallybroch. He tells us, in the most delicate way because of Brianna being there, that he was evading the Redcoats.

He finally convinced Jenny to turn him in, and he spent three years in prison.

"I knew that," I grin, taking his hand in mine when Brianna moves to sit in Fergus' lap in the rocking chair he's occupying.

Jamie squeezes my fingers, eyes shining as he looks at me. He looks as if he can't believe I'm really here, and I understand the feeling all too well. This seems like a dream, but I have to remind myself that it's one I won't be waking from. This is my new reality.

"How'd you get out of prison?" Brianna asks, ever the curious one.

He laughs and rubs the back of his neck, seeming like he doesn't want to answer this part. "I… w-well, I escaped, a _leannain_."

All of our heads tilt, and Jamie snickers, delving into a tale about escaping, attempting to find treasure (to which Brianna's eyes light up at), and how he'd made a friend in the governor of the prison, Lord John Gray (though, the way he says 'friend' makes me think there's more of a story there, but one I will ask about later when children aren't within ear shot).

Lord John took pity on him, he'd been an informant to him for months—dining with the governor, pleading on the prisoner's behalfs for better treatment and the like—and when they shipped the rest of the prisoners to the American Colonies, he knew Jamie's sentence would never be overturned by the proper authorities, so he sent him to a large estate called Hellwater.

There, he worked as a groomsman for a handful of months, but one evening, as the family that lived there was hosting a party, an argument broke out amongst two of the gentlemen. They were each claiming they'd been promised the eldest daughter's, Geneva, hand in marriage.

"Things got out of hand, ye see," Jamie explains, his eyes staring off into the distance as he wraps us all tightly in his story. He glances over to Brianna, and I can see he censors his wording for her little ears and simply says, "They each pulled out their guns," Brianna gasps at that, her little brown eyes going wide as saucers. She's on the edge of Fergus' knee as she listens intently, "But uh, well, one of the lads at the party had a child," Jamie shakes his head at the memory, "And, well, Claire, I wasna bout to let a wee bairn get hurt, ye ken?"

I nod and smile, knowing this sounds just like my husband to protect an innocent child, even one he didn't know.

"I, uh," he flicks his eyes over to Bree again, sighing, "Well, I had tae shoot the bastard, ye ken? 'Twas the only way to stop the bairn from getting hurt."

Fergus and I nod, while Bree still stares at her father silently, enthralled in his story. He goes on, saying that the baby ended up being the niece of Mr. and Mrs. Dunsany, the people who lived in the estate he worked at. They were so grateful to him, that the lady of the house wrote a letter excusing him from his sentence and allowing him to return to Lallybroch years before he should have ever been able to.

I breathe out in relief, knowing he must've been so happy when that happened. "What a relief."

"Aye," he agrees, telling us that he returned home to Lallybroch two years ago, stayed for a bit, but realized after all of our traveling and adventures that he wanted something more out of life than working on the farm where he grew up.

"And that's when you came to Edinburgh?" Fergus asks.

Jamie nods, saying he'd heard printing was an honest job, a good way to earn money, and he knew Lallybroch was struggling financially. The tenants hadn't been able to produce as much as of late, so he was determined to help in any way possible.

I see the glint in his eye, know he's up to more than just printing, but I smirk and remind myself to ask him about it later.

We've been sitting here for a while, the four of us lost in a cocoon of peace that I haven't felt in quite some time, but the rumble of Brianna's stomach draws all of our attention to the hour.

Jamie smiles, taking Brianna's hand in his and leading us to the nearest pub. While there, we meet a business associate of his, Mr. Willoughby, and once the older man is gone, we spend the rest of the evening catching up and mostly talking about Brianna and Fergus' life.

Fergus shares his favorite memories of his sister, and she does the same for her brother, and I beam as I watch Jamie admiring our children with pride as he listens to the tales.

"Fergie drove me to the grocery store when he learned to drive!" Brianna exclaims, and I have to shush her and remind her that people in this time don't know what that means. Last thing we need is to end up at a witch trial our first day back.

We explain cars more to Jamie, and he does his best to understand, but mostly he just looks confused at the multiple new inventions Brianna is chattering on about excitedly.

"And Daddy built a dollhouse for me," she adds casually after discussing various toys she'd gotten a few Christmases ago. Why she chose that Christmas of all times to mention, I will never understand, but I figure, that's the mind of a child who has the opportunity to tell someone about her _entire_ life.

Fergus' eyes catch Jamie's, and he gives him a sympathetic smile. Brianna must pick up on what she's said, and she apologizes, telling Jamie she knows he's her dad, too. "I just have two dads. So... that's neat."

"Sorry, Milord."

Jamie waves them off, saying, "I ken Frank was a big part of yer lives." He smiles over at me, and I try to put on a happy smile in front of Brianna, for I do not want her to know the truth of how miserable I was being married to Frank. She's still unaware that we were planning to divorce when he got into his accident. "I canna expect it to be otherwise."

Fergus and Brianna nod, taking bites of their grapes and a small assortment of cheese.

I take hold of Jamie's hand, my thumb leisurely tracing over the faint scar where I sewed his broken fingers back together all those years ago.

We share soft smiles with each other, lost in the other for a moment, the rest of the world fading away until I hear the giggles of my children from across the table.

I look toward them, Jamie slowly following suit as he slowly tears his eyes away from mine, and I watch as Fergus and Bree bat their eyelashes at one another, mocking me and Jamie as Bree claps her hands together, resting them under her chin.

My husband tosses a grape in Fergus' direction, grunting out a laugh as he simply squeezes my hand, pulling me an inch closer as we laugh at the way our children make fun of us.

This is nice, being here like this. Together. I can't seem to let go of him for too long in fear that I'll wake up back in Boston. And he doesn't seem to be able to do the same as he eats with one hand, the other tucked securely in mine. I trail my fingertips over his forearm as we continue to share stories of our time apart, and before long, Fergus is entertaining us all with his favorite story—the time he cut Brianna's hair while I was at class.

"We wanted to play barber shop," Brianna explains, gesturing to Jamie. "So I handed Fergie the scissors and told him to cut." She says it so matter of factly with a little shrug that I can't help but laugh.

Fergus gives the whole account of how they'd snuck past Frank who was snoring away on the couch, retrieving the scissors from the kitchen drawer. "I stacked some phone books in the chair, Milord, and she sat down like a proper customer," he says, grinning as his little sister tries to contain her laughter beside him.

"Problem was," I interject, giving them both my best mothering glare, "Fergus was laughing too hard to pay attention and cut half of her hair off on one side." I gesture with my hands to indicate how uneven it was when I arrived home from school, left side resting on her shoulder while the right sat at her jaw line.

"Mama had to rush me to the salon the next day," Brianna replies, grinning. "They had to cut my hair into this short little bob that Fergus said made me look like a _boy_."

I snicker at the memory now, shaking my head as I remember how angry I'd been with Frank to let them do it while I was gone.

I glance over to Jamie and catch his eye; he's listening so intently to the stories we have of our lives over the last several years. It hurts my heart knowing he never got to experience any of these moments with us, but being here now, with him by my side, feels so natural, so right, and I don't ever want to let it go again.

Jamie grunts, gesturing toward Fergus. "And what of your childhood, eh? Any embarrassing stories?"

I beam with pride as I watch Fergus' face light up. He launches into tale after tale of things he experienced in the future, telling Jamie about modern day ovens, cars and television, along with toys he got to play with—he loved to chase slinkies down the stairs with Bree, toy guns that I rarely let him use because it was too triggering for me, an ever growing assortment of play-doh for both he and his sister, action cars, toy trains, and of course, his ever beloved pogostick.

"The devil is a, uh, a pogostick?"

We all laugh at Jamie's expression, while Fergus explains the toy, standing to mimic the motion before he realizes he's drawing too much attention to himself in the pub.

Grinning, he slinks down into his chair, shrugging at me as I raise my brows in his direction.

Jamie laughs, patting him on the knee as he tells him he's allowed to be excited. "I like hearin' bout these toys and such." His face grows a touch softer as he says, "I'm happy to ken ye were safe, and happy." He reaches over at that, taking my hand in his as he adds, "and loved."

Fergus gives him a gentle smile as my hand trails up Jamie's arm and to his back, resting between his shoulder blades. I lean in, kissing his shoulder briefly before pulling back. "But we missed you, so much," I whisper, nuzzling my nose into his arm before sitting back to tend to my meal.

For the next hour, Jamie fills us in more on the last few years of his life, mainly focusing on his time here in Edinburgh because, as he reminds us, he was in hiding for a good many years. He alludes to the fact that he isn't _just_ a printer, and I catch Fergus' knowing gaze—leave it to James Fraser to not stay out of trouble.

We finish our meal and another round of drinks before Jamie pays the tab and we head upstairs to the inn for the rest of the evening.

{**********************}

_There is one more part of this to have some fun sexy times for Jamie and Claire ;) and just to wrap things up haha… Stay tuned! :)_


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go–the final chapter of Coming Home. I took some liberties with people who technically wouldn't be born yet in this timeline since Bree is only twelve BUT… it's fiction so I'm allowed? I guess? Lol *shrugs* I've also taken bits of canon dialogue but changed a lot of it to fit the story, so hopefully it still works out! Either way, enjoy the final chapter! :)

**Coming Home: Part Four**

That night, with Bree tucked securely in a room with Fergus, Jamie and I make our way to our own room.

He'd mentioned that he normally stays at Madame Jeanne's brothel but figured taking Brianna there wasn't the best parenting decision.

"Well that was a good call," I snicker, humorously sighing as I tell him, "Though I'm sure Fergus would have been pleased as punch to spend the night in a brothel."

"I dinna ken what punch is, Sassenach, but I can tell from ye face that it's a good thing."

I laugh, oh how I've missed him not understanding my figures of speech, so I just nod and say it's a very good thing, and I just mean that Fergus would've been extremely happy.

"Aye," he chuckles, his smirk growing, "like a pig in mud."

We laugh, Jamie taking my hand as he leads me inside the room.

It's a small room, nothing too spectacular, but it's enough for just us. There's a bed in the center of the main wall, directly across from the hearth. There's a table off to the side that Jamie slides in front of the fire, saying he wants to warm up the seats for us.

The window has a thick curtain covering it, which will be nice when the bright sunlight starts streaming inside in the morning. The wooden floors creek beneath my feet as I make my way inside, and I'm reminded so much of the place we slept the night of our wedding.

He informs me that when he doesn't stay at the brothel, when his travel plans are more planned out, he books a room here, so the inn keeper will take care of them, delivering water, wine for them, and plates of snacks to their room and the children's.

I nod, but I can't stop thinking about him having a room at a brothel. I'm stunned, of course, and a little put off that he has a room there, but he explains that Madame Jeanne is a customer of his and that she keeps a room for him because he travels abroad so much and arrives at all hours of the night, so he needed a place that would be open.

We settle a bit then, and I find myself still standing awkwardly in front of a small table situated in front of the hearth, and Jamie finally asks me what I know he's been wanting to all day: How I found out he wasn't dead. I tell him of Roger and his research, and how we pieced the entire timeline together, scouring over history books and any documents we could find from during this time to find traces of his existence.

Fear creeps in when he asks me, again, why I came back, and suddenly I feel as if perhaps I shouldn't have come. Maybe his life really is too different now or there's a reason he doesn't want us to stay.

The room falls silent, and I'm saddened to be surrounded by this tension. "Are… are you trying to tell me something?" I question, adding, "because if so, I know that you have a life now. And perhaps there are other ties–"

"I have burned for ye for so long," he says emphatically, interrupting my question. "Do ye not know that?" His eyes bore into mine, deeply, penetrating my every thought. "But I am no longer the man ye once knew." He takes a step closer, then adds, "You and I, we know each other less than we did when we were first wed."

And, well, yes… I suppose he is right. We hardly know each other now, yet I feel as if I've known him forever. We were only together a mere three years then, but I feel I learned him inside and out during that time. I still know him more than I know myself... I hope anyway.

"Do you want me to go?" I ask with an uneasy shrug of one shoulder.

He slowly, methodically, moves closer, as do I, and I can practically feel the heat from his body radiating onto mine when he murmurs, "No. I dinna want ye to go. But I must know… do ye want me?"

I chuckle, in utter disbelief that he even feels the need to ask me such a thing. I smile, saying, "Of course I want you, Jamie. You're the only one I've ever wanted."

I turn it back on him, then, asking him the same of me. How does he know I'm not a horrible person? But Jamie, being Jamie, huskily whispers that he doesn't care and draws me even closer still. My back is to the bed, and I know with just a few steps backward, we'd be on the mattress, and god, does that sound like a splendid idea.

His finger bends, resting beneath my chin as he tilts my head up to look into his eyes. He leans in, as do I, inching closer to one another. Our lips finally meet again, heat growing in my belly, but before we can go any further, there is a knock on the door, interrupting our moment by bringing us the snacks he'd mentioned before.

We grin at one another as we pull apart quickly, and I take a few steps toward the fire as Jamie takes the food. Tucking a stray curl behind my ear, I bite my lip, trying my best to contain my mirth as I watch Jamie open the door.

"Just somethin' to hold ye over in case you get hungry before breakfast," the lady offers, and Jamie thanks the kind old woman as she makes her exit with a knowing grin upon her face, saying she'll deliver the other tray to Fergus' room.

We giggle like the children we once were together as we each take a seat at the small wooden table.

Jamie pours our wine, our eyes taking one another in, the minutes seeming to slow as we try to memorize this new version of one another. We spend the next several hours eating slowly, savoring each other as much as the food before us. We reminisced about our life together all those years ago, then carefully filled in the details of our time apart that we hadn't shared earlier in the day with Fergus and Bree.

It was nice, and needed, as we began to know one another again and discover if we are, in fact, the same two souls that had once existed as one. I felt as if we were, always have, but it was comforting to just be together… to talk, and share, and truly open up again like we used to do so often.

Our eyes continue to meet across the table, soft, knowing smiles gracing our lips as he pops a grape into his mouth—that mouth I long to kiss again more than anything—and I slowly sip on my wine, my eyes never leaving his. I can practically feel him undressing me with his eyes, and the heated, lustful gazes sent my way are reciprocated as I return them. I know talking is nice, getting to know each other again is necessary, but I find myself having to bite my lip to avoid blurting out what I really want him to do to me right now.

He tells me more about his time in prison, how Murtagh was there and how he fought for the prisoners to be given better conditions. I nod and listen, knowing Jamie trying to help others is so like him, so _Jamie,_ that I can't help the small smile that lifts the corner of my mouth. I ask of his godfather and what happened to him, but Jamie shrugs, saying in a defeated tone that Murtagh was shipped off to the colonies with the other prisoners.

"I pray one day we might be reunited wi' him, Sassenach," he says, rubbing his thumb along the back of my hand, "but for now, I just tell myself he's safe."

Nodding, and giving him an encouraging smile, I reply, "I hope so, too," before Jamie goes on, telling me more about Hellwater, his eventual freedom and his decision to move to Edinburgh almost two years ago.

I tell him of my years with Frank, how he was a wonderful father to Brianna but terrible to me and indifferent toward Fergus. I explain that I'd begged Frank to file for divorce when Brianna was just a toddler, but he wouldn't do it. I get emotional, having never truly been able to speak freely about the hell it was being married to him to anyone before. I've never been able to open up to another person like I have Jamie, even after all this time.

I feel bad, guilty, I suppose, speaking ill of the dead, so I try to mend my words, put a happy spin on it, but Jamie sees right through me, takes my hand and tells me not to do that. To speak the truth to him.

With a sigh, I tell him that Frank had finally agreed to divorce me the night of his accident.  
"We'd argued because he wanted Brianna to move to London with him, and I refused," I tell him solemnly, though Jamie appears angry at the thought of Frank taking Bree away from me like that. I squeeze his hand in solace, telling him that she was only eight at the time and I would never willingly part from my little girl.

My eyes mist over, and I reach up to wipe away a stray tear as I confide in him about the affair Frank had and how he missed birthdays, Christmases, and other important events in our life, but, I assure him, "I put on a brave face, as any mother would, and pretended that everything was alright for the children."

"A _good_ mother, _mo chridhe_ ," he corrects me, saying not every mother would've done the same.

The tears flow more when I tell him how I spent twelve years missing him, wanting nothing more than to be back in time with him, while Frank was off galavanting with another woman.

"I felt so alone for so long," I cry, sniffling as I roll my eyes and grunt at myself for showing so much emotion.

Jamie comes to my side of the table, wrapping his arms around me and shushing into my hair. "Hush now. Ye're here, wi' me and our bairns," he whispers, kissing the top of my head. "Ye'll no' have tae be alone anymore, _mo nighean donn."_

I smile at the term, oh how I've missed that so much. Missed _him_ so much.

I turn in his embrace, he's kneeling on the floor, arms around me, and it's a tad awkward, but I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world in this moment.

Jamie hoists me to my feet then, a surprised yelp falling from my lips.

He chuckles, saying, "Och, I'm sorry, Sassenach," as he pulls me into his chest. "I just needed ye close to me and dinna want to be on the floor." He pauses for a second, pulling back to look at me, a sheepish grin forming as he admits, "My knees arena what they used to be."

I giggle and nod, understanding that feeling all too well. My arms wrap around him as I press a kiss to his lips, then reassure him, "Quite alright," with another kiss to his jaw, "I'd rather be in your arms like this anyway."

Our eyes connect at that, all food and wine on the table forgotten as I can physically feel our souls reconnecting with just one look. I inhale slowly, this feeling I'd almost forgotten about so overwhelming just with a simple touch.

He'd asked me about it one time, soon after we were wed, what this feeling was between us. I didn't have an answer then, and I still don't, except to say this must be what soulmates truly feel like.

"I've missed ye so much, Claire," he chokes out, the tears forming in his blue eyes.

I nod, wrapping my arms around his neck as his settle on my waist. "And I, you."

He leans in then, lips hovering over mine far longer than I think necessary, so I bring mine in, pressing them to his firmly. It pulls a moan from the back of his throat, and I can't help but to deepen it, to pull this man as close as possible to my body.

Twelve years. Over an entire fucking decade, and he can still kiss me breathless faster than anyone ever has. He knows my body like the back of his hand, and I his. "I love you, Jamie," I breathe out when we break for air. "God, I love you so much."

Jamie places another kiss to my lips, then my jaw, and over to my ear, nibbling on my lobe like I always enjoyed so much.

I sigh out as goosebumps rise all over my skin, and I practically purr his name. My hands rake through his hair, holding him in place and bringing him impossibly closer to my neck that he's now devouring. His tongue snakes out, tracing the line of my vein and sucking on my neck.

"Jamie," I pant, knowing exactly where this is going, and knowing I have on entirely far too many clothes.

He looks into my eyes, practically seeing into my soul as he asks, "Will ye… come to bed with me, then?"

I chuckle softly as I whisper _Yes_ into the space between us, and he takes my hand, giving it that affectionate squeeze he has always done.

We undress one another slowly, carefully, like a rhythmic dance we both know but haven't performed in a very long time.

Nerves skitter across my skin with each inch that he reveals, and I have to steady my hands as I remove his clothing as well.

Once I'm naked as the day I was born, standing in front of my husband (God, that feels amazing to say), I suddenly feel unsure. No one has seen my body in years, could never truly bring myself to sleep with anyone after Frank started spending his time elsewhere. His infidelity and absence made me question the way my body looked, despite knowing deep down that I pushed him into the affair because I was still in love with Jamie. The uncertainty toward my own skin has been imprinted upon my subconscious for twelve years, and that was a hard thing to break.

Before leaving for this century, I'd called my friend, Joe Abernathy, from medical school. We were both just starting out in our careers, had just graduated from Harvard Medical three years ago, and were fortunate enough to be hired by the same hospital. My call to him, however, was of a more personal matter. I was imagining what Jamie would think of me after all this time, and needed a man's opinion. Joe's was the only one I trusted, and now as his words about my _fine ass_ ring through my mind, I smile softly, briefly, yet the insecurities still linger, especially as I'm climbing my way closer to forty-five. Things just don't sit like they did in my twenties, and I'm filled with self-doubt because I know, even with clothes on, his body is bound to look just as incredible as the day I went through the stones.

His eyes slowly rake their way down my body, but he doesn't say anything, just stands there, breathing heavily as he takes me in.

My arms reach up, covering my most intimate parts as I chuckle nervously. One hand covers my breasts, which I know sit lower now that I've breastfed an infant, while the other attempts to cover my stomach that I've never quite gotten as flat as it was before Brianna was born. "Will you bloody well say something?"

He stares at my face, almost in a trance, his eyes full of unshed tears as he tells me in the sincerest of voices, "Christ, Claire…Ye are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."

I chuckle anxiously again, my nerves getting the better of me as I look at him in disbelief. He's still the most genuine and sweetest man I've ever known, but, "You must really be losing your eyesight," I joke, trying to break the tension.

He breathes out a quick chuckle, the deep like _hmph_ that always brings a smile to my face.

I step closer, taking his hands in mine as I tell him I want to see him. And god, do I ever. I've missed him, and this, and now that I'm naked, all I want is for him to join me, to touch me, to love me in a way that only he can.

He slowly removes his shirt, and with each inch of skin that is revealed, my hands trace the lines from his abdomen to his chest, taking it all in. Bloody hell, he's gorgeous. The muscles he still possesses, the lines of his body… I bite my lip as I feel the heat pooling between my legs. I've never wanted anyone as much as I want Jamie Fraser.

"Sassenach, I must admit," he whispers, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he breathes deeply, "I am verra scared, much more than I thought I would be."

And good, I'm glad he's terrified too, because my heart feels as if it's going to leap from my chest at any moment. Knowing he's just as terrified brings me a small comfort, like a weight has been lifted from my chest. I remind him of his words from our wedding night, though, and how if we just touch, the nerves will go away. "Touch me, Jamie."

I take another step closer, Jamie's arms wrapping around my naked waist as we stand chest to chest. The feel of our skin pressed against one another's is almost too much to bear as we both breathe deeply, rapid and shaking pants falling from our lips. I can feel his heart beating against my chest, and I concentrate on mine, realizing they're beating in sync, just one more reminder of how true this is.

He presses his lips to mine, more firmly than he has all night, and yes, this is what I've wanted, what I've missed. This is what I _need_.

His head tilts, giving me a better angle to work with, and I moan into the embrace as his hand tangles in my messy curls, tugging my head back so he can trail kisses down my neck to my breasts.

He walks me back to the bed, falling into it when the back of my knees make contact. It's awkward, we're a bit out of practice, and we laugh when our heads knock together.

He kisses my forehead where I'm almost positive a bump will be growing come morning, then my lips, and as my hand cups his cheek, scratching lightly at the scruff growing there, it's as if we hadn't gone a dozen years without kissing.

Jamie goes to move me further up the bed, and we grunt and laugh as I flop harder into the pillows than either of us meant for me to. "Sorry," he pants out adorably, and I laugh.

This is a disaster, but the humor we're finding in it makes me happy, makes me feel more comfortable.

He's hovering above me, that beautiful mane of red curls falling into his eyes while his strong arms encase me from both sides. His smile fades into something more seductive, and I breathe out in ecstasy as his lips land on my stomach, slowly and tantalizingly trailing their way up between my breasts.

We kiss, slowly, savoring one another before it becomes more passionate, his body rocking above mine, riling me up with each movement. I can feel his cock pressed against me, and I long to have him inside. My hands tangle in his hair, then move to caress his back, the scars still there, but so much a part of him that I can't imagine what his back would feel like without them.

I grip at his biceps as his hands reach down, taking hold of my legs and moving them so one knee is bent while the other wraps around him, finding purchase on his lower back. His hand slinks down between us, and he toys with me, taunts me as the tip of his finger dips inside, then out again. I breathe his name, warning him not to make me wait, but all he does is smirk, placing another kiss to my nipple before swirling his tongue around it, then up, up, up to my neck, sucking again on my pulse point.

And oh fuck, oh _fuck_ , this already feels so amazing. Better than any type of sensation Frank ever caused within my body. God, I've missed Jamie so much. I'm half convinced he could simply _look_ at me right now and I'd come.

We kiss, a bit sloppily as we vie for dominance, his lips drawing wanton pants from my body as I move beneath him. Fuck, I love this, love him. The feel of his hands all over my skin is enough to bring me to my climax alone, but I resist, pushing the urge down to savor each kiss and suck he places to my body. His cock is pressed against my center that is aching for him, and when he breaks our kiss, I tell him I'm ready. I need him, desperately, there's no need for much foreplay.

He slips in slowly between my folds, causing me to practically clench around him at the sensation; it's been so long but _god_ does it already feel fucking fantastic. With all previous awkwardness gone, he seems to remember each and every spot of my body that makes me squirm and writhe beneath him. And I remember what he likes too, the way he likes my nails to dig into his skin, or the roll of my hips beneath his, and I give him just what he desires, drawing a muffled groan from his lips.

"J-Jamieeee, _yes_ ," I cry out, my eyes wanting to squeeze shut at the sensation but also wanting to stay open, to watch his every beautiful move.

Reaching down, I rub my finger along my clit, circling it as I tease myself, but he pushes my hand away, growling a, "No, Sassenach, let me," as he replaces my hand, his thumb and forefinger pinching my clit in the most delicious way, rolling it between his fingers and bringing me closer to coming.

"Yes," I moan, a strangled cry getting caught in my throat as his palm moves, pressing against my clit as his cock moves in and out of me. "H-harder, Jamie, yes!"

I shout as he follows my instructions, his grunts filling the air along with the sound of our skin slapping together. "Faster, oh _fuck_!"

I moan, not believing that this is really happening. It's been so long, but we're like two puzzle pieces always meant to fit together. Our skin slides against one another's, and as he lustfully demands, "Kiss me, Sassenach," I cry out, my hands gripping his elbows and holding him as close as possible to me.

He groans into my mouth, and fucking hell, he sounds so good, almost crying my name like a plea that makes my insides quiver with anticipation. My name falls from his lips as he thrusts inside me, completely sheathed to the hilt, and I can already feel myself falling over the edge.

We move together, our grunts and groans escalating as our bodies take us closer to our mutual release. With one, two, three more hard, blissfully well placed thrusts, Jamie is coming inside of me, his, "Yes, Claire, _ahh_!" muffled against my lips as he does, and I'm not far behind him. He slips out, his fingers that are still inside changing their angle, one crooking up inside of me as his palm rubs gloriously against my clit and within mere seconds, I'm tumbling over that precipice of satisfaction, falling down into the abyss that is Jamie's kisses, and almost choking on my cries because they're so loud.

"Och, quiet now, _mo chridhe_ ," he teases, pressing his finger to his lips in a shushing motion. "The bairns are just next door."

I slap his arm, giggling and shaking my head as he slides that finger into his mouth, licking my juices off as his eyes roll closed. He moans, and I bite my lip, telling him he's the one that needs to be quiet now.

He snorts, pushing a piece of hair from my eye and tucking it behind my ear as he stares down into my face. His other hand is leisurely tracing lines up and down my side, my body still experiencing aftershocks from my orgasm.

I haven't felt this type of love and desire in so long, twelve whole years, and my body feels as if it's on fire in the best way possible. I never had this feeling with anyone else, nor would I want to. This is it for me; Jamie is it. The only man I will ever need in my life. He knows how to satisfy me like Frank never did, and as he crumbles on top of me, my name whispered with so much love and affection that I could melt right then and there, all I can do is lay beneath him, mouth agape, unable to comprehend that this is real.

My nails scrape lightly up Jamie's back, up over his shoulder to rest on his chest as he lays on top of me, panting while he tries to catch his breath. Stunned seems to be the only word I can think of to describe how I feel: stunned, well fucked and fully jello-limbed thanks to my husband.

I rub his back with one hand, the other curling around his neck as I weave my fingers through his auburn hair, trying to catch my breath. Jamie rolls to the side, his body still partly on top of me, and we sigh in contentment, loving, lazy smiles sent to one another before he wraps his hand around the back of my head, drawing me in for a kiss.

We spend the next several hours slowly tracing each other's skin, Jamie complimenting mine, saying how much it feels like velvet—an adulation he used to bestow upon me frequently in the past—and truly just enjoying one another's company again. We talk, and laugh, and munch on the snacks as I try to get more information out of him about what he does besides printing, but before too long, he has me wrapped in the sheets once more, moaning and shouting his name until the early hours of the morning.

{***********************}

The next day, I groggily wake to Jamie lacing up his boots. He claims to have business to take care of, and I assure him the children and I will be here when he gets back, for I don't believe I am able to move just yet after being so thoroughly fucked all night.

I lay there for a few minutes, enjoying the peaceful morning while I can, then decide I should get dressed and find the children. I layer on my stockings, petticoat and dress, making sure everything is secure before sliding on my boots. Once ready, I meet Fergus and Brianna downstairs, already digging into the breakfast provided by the inn.

Kissing the tops of their heads, I smile sweetly as I slide into a chair, sipping on the water already poured for me while Fergus hands me a plate with a few pieces of bread and a handful of fruit on it.

I ask them how they slept last night, and Brianna launches into an animated rendition of her night—talking with her brother until he fell asleep, the comfort of the mattress she slept on, how delicious the food was that they snacked on far later in the evening than I would ever allow at home… and it's nice, hearing her talk like this and seeing how much she's enjoying all these new occurrences in her life. It helps assuage my guilt and fear that I took her from the comforts of our world too soon.

Once we finish eating, I send Fergus and Bree upstairs to their room to straighten up and finish getting ready for the day while I wander into mine and Jamie's to collect my coat.

When I walk in, however, I'm greeted by a man with a knife, looking for contraband of my husband's, spewing something about ledgers and asking where Jamie keeps them. I ward off his attack, wondering bemusedly why it took _this_ long for danger to find me in this century.

Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ. James Fraser can't keep himself out of trouble, and I curse him as Fergus and Brianna walk into our room to see what our plan for the day is. Luckily, Bree had been behind Fergus and our son had the good sense to turn around quickly, ushering her out of the room and downstairs to find their cousin, Young Ian, whom they'd met briefly last night.

While Fergus is handling Brianna, Jamie arrives to our room with Mr. Willoughby, leaving me and the older man to work on saving this stranger's life while he goes out in search of answers with his friends, Hayes and Lesley. I work tirelessly with my new companion to save the man's life, but in the end, it's to no avail.

With a heavy heart, I clean up the instruments I'd used to drill a hole into the man's skull, thanking Mr. Willoughby for his assistance.

"Anything for Honorable Wife," he declares respectfully, giving me a bow.

Smiling, I place my hand on his shoulder in thanks, making my way from the room.

Finding my children and husband at a table with Young Ian, I join them with a sigh as Jamie squeezes my hand in silent assurance before he scrambles upstairs to help Mr. Willoughby take care of the body.

Once they've somehow gotten the corpse out of the building unnoticed, Jamie joins us at the table, whispering into my hair that everything is taken care of.

Sending a small, tired smile his way, I sigh, closing my eyes to collect myself, only opening them when I feel Fergus's hand rubbing my shoulder gently.

Young Ian stands and makes his way to the bar, ordering more drinks for us all, which gives my son a chance to say, "We haven't had quite this much adventure in a while, no?"

I roll my eyes and shake my head, my shoulder slumping as I agree. Even though I've missed Jamie terribly over the years, not having to defend my virtue or threaten someone's life with a knife on an almost daily occurrence was nice.

Jamie takes my hand in his, scooting his chair closer to mine and kissing the top of my head. "Dinna fash, Sassenach," he assures, pecking his lips to mine. "All will be well."

I smile, not sure if I truly believe that, but looking at him, I know it has to. Fergus, Brianna, and I did not go through months of research and traveling just to come back and give up. Going back to the twentieth century isn't an option. I love Jamie far, _far_ too much for that.

Young Ian comes back over, cheerfully handing us a tray of fruits, cooked vegetables and pieces of seasoned turkey but soon declares with a sigh, "That's the bonniest lass I ever saw," as his big, blue eye flutter, following the pretty barmaid's every move from across the room.

With another dreamy sigh, he claps Fergus on the back and scurries off, eyes full of love (and lust) for the young girl that seems to be peering at him from over her shoulder as well.

Smirking, I shake my head as I remark, "Must run in the Fraser blood."

"Och, what's that?" Jamie asks, looking to me skeptically.

Fergus points to the blonde barmaid Ian is trying to chat up and says, "Walking around like a love sick puppy dog."

Brianna giggles, mimicking those batted eyelashes she and Fergus were doing last night, and Jamie snorts, shaking his head. "I dinna look like a love sick puppy dog… wha'ever that may be."

My brows raise, as do Fergus', as our son bats his eye lashes dramatically like Bree had done, putting on his best Scottish accent and imitating, "Och, Sassenach, I love ye so much."

Brianna's water attempts to spew from her mouth as she laughs, but she quickly covers it just in time, swallowing and gasping for air as she says, "That was perfect, Fergie!"

Laughing, Jamie and I look at one another, knowing they're not wrong, and I smile, leaning in to kiss my husband briefly.

"Jenny and Ian must be worried about him, though," I say after a beat of silence, watching Young Ian try to woo the lass across the bar.

Jamie had told us last night that the teenager was the youngest son of his sister, and while I was happy to meet my nephew, I knew the Murrays must be worried sick. Young Ian apparently had a habit of running away, always finding his way to his uncle here in Edinburgh. "Eh, I'll send him home by next week," Jamie promises, adding, "let the lad have a wee bit of fun!"

I roll my eyes, but acquiesce with a humored sigh, knowing Jamie is a man of his word.

We sit in silence for a while after that, just enjoying each other's presence while we eat, but before long, Jamie is asking us about the future again. He'd always been so fascinated with things of my time, especially inventions like cars and airplanes, so I sit back with a grin while Fergus tells him of the radio, how you can turn it on and, "You can listen to your favorite songs right then and there, Milord." His smile widens as he adds, "There are bands that play, and record their music, and you can buy their record and play it on a record machine!" His voice pipes up in excitement, and I have to shush him, reminding him we don't want people to overhear us.

Fergus looks at me timidly, a blush forming on his cheeks as he apologizes. I grin; he may be a grown man but being chastised by your mother will apparently always make you feel like a young boy.

Jamie pats his hand, telling him he can tell him more about _these records_ when we are alone.

Fergus nods happily, taking a sip of his wine. "Ah," he sighs, lips smacking in pleasure, "I have truly missed this, Milord." He raises his glass saying, "They do not make it this superbly in Boston."

Smiling, I have to agree, though, "The food is better there, though."

Bree groans, rubbing her belly. "What I wouldn't _give_ for a big, greasy cheeseburger."

We laugh, and Jamie looks confused, which only causes us to laugh some more as I explain to him what it is.

Young Ian comes back then, so we know talk of the future must end, but we spend the rest of the afternoon together, touring the village and taking care of business now that the man from this morning is dead. I worry his death will come back to haunt us in some way, stuffing his body in a cask of crème de menthe is bound to be discovered, but I shake off the thoughts, telling myself not to worry too much.

We visit Jamie's print shop, Young Ian showing us around more than what we were able to see yesterday, and Jamie teaches the children how to produce words onto the paper. They both watch, completely fascinated, Bree's eyes widening in awe as she watches Jamie press down the lever, lowering the printing block onto the paper before pulling it back to reveal the finished product.

"Woah," Brianna breathes, her eyes glancing up to mine in excitement, before crouching back down to examine the contraption.

Fergus walks around the machine, hand trailing along each piece as Jamie explains to him how it works.

Bree listens intently to her father, but doesn't move as she peers at the tympan and frisket, studying how each part works together to create words on the page.

I smile, watching the three of them interact, their smiles just more confirmation that we made the right decision. The afternoon has turned out to be peaceful with my family around, and I need to enjoy it while I can. Lord knows trouble finds Jamie like a magnet finds iron, this morning was proof alone of that fact.

Later in the day, just before supper, I place a kiss to Jamie's lips, telling him I'm going to go see a patient I'd met at the apothecary earlier. He begs me to take Fergus, but I refuse, telling him I can handle walking around town alone. Besides, I want Fergus to bond with him again, and this will be a good time for them to do that. "I'll take Bree though," I surmise with a grin, "I don't suppose she'd much care for your male bonding."

He smiles, but as he takes my hand and looks into my eyes, asking, "Ye will come back, no?" I suddenly realize his fear.

He doesn't want me to disappear, nor do I. I know our first day back wasn't exactly ideal with me having to perform a surgery and losing the patient, and I know Jamie is afraid this is all too much, that I'll take the children and leave again. But he's wrong. I have him back now, and it's going to take a lot more than one man attacking me to make me want to leave.

With an understanding smile, I nod, promising him to return, and with one last squeeze to his hand, I'm off to start my journey as a doctor in this century.

{************************}

Two years later, as I place our dinner on the large table and everyone digs in, I can't help but to happily sit back and observe.

Getting to America had been a challenge, but after Jamie's shop was burned to the ground thanks to the enemies he'd acquired in Edinburgh, we all loaded up our horses and headed back to the highlands to bring Young Ian home to his family. We spent six months there at Lallybroch, but after a while, Jamie and I decided we wanted a fresh start where he wasn't a known criminal.

Young Ian had wanted to come along, to explore a new world and have some adventure in his life. So when we decided to set sail, Jamie had (somehow, Lord only knows how) convinced Jenny to let him tag along with us for the journey. I pass him the basket of bread, smiling as he places a roll onto his plate, then hands the basket over to Fergus.

I pick up the potatoes and hand them to Marsali, grinning when I think of how angry her mother had been when she snuck off to sail away with us and how the girl had truly become like another daughter to me over the last few months.

Laoghaire was miserably married to Marsali's father, and still pining after Jamie, so she was none too pleased to see me back in Scotland. With a smug grin on my face, I'd been nice enough to get by, but I have to admit, leaving her an ocean apart from me and Jamie had been a relief.

I wasn't happy when Fergus announced his engagement to Marsali, but when he reasoned with me that he'd known her a month longer than I had known Jamie when we were wed, well, how could I deny him?

"Thank ye, Claire," the young blonde says, dishing out a few then handing the pan to Brianna.

Murtagh grunts as Fergus hands him the roast boar we'd made, and I chuckle, glad that the old grump had found his way to the ridge and was planning to stay for a few weeks. Having him here made our family feel even more complete.

My hand wraps around Jamie's shoulder as the other takes purchase on my hip, watching as my children laugh and genuinely enjoy being here.

I'm filled with a warmth knowing my family is all here, together. It's something I never thought I'd see, and I'm thankful Jamie gets the opportunity to raise his children, a hope he'd long since given up on before we arrived back in his time.

Jamie encourages me to sit and eat while it's still hot, so I chuckle and join them for supper. My husband reaches out for me like he so often does, and I smile over at him. Being here, like this, with my entire family gathered around the dinner table and Jamie's hand in mine, I know that coming back, coming _home_ , was the best thing I could have ever done.

**End.**

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_There we have it! Thanks so much for everyone who read/followed/reviewed my first Outlander fic. Hopefully I will find inspiration to write more soon! Haha… I hope y'all enjoyed this. Please review! :)_


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